LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OP 

CALIFORNIA 

IRVINE 


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TAP  EPXETAI. 

•'7  must  ho;m  to  work  while  it  is  called  day  ;  for  the  night  cometli  when 
no  man  can  work.  I  put  that  text,  many  a  year  ago,  on  my  dud-stone;  but 
it  often  preached  in  vain."—  SCOTT'S  Life,  x.  88. 


' 


THE   JOURNAL    OF 

SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 

FROM    THE   ORIGINAL    MANUSCRIPT 
AT  ABBOTSFORD 


VOLUME  I 

NEW  YORK 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  FRANKLIN  SQUARE 

I  890 

\_Att  Rights  Reserved\ 


f 

£*^.4t~~, 


VOL.  I. 


"  1  shall  have  a  peep  at  Bothwell  Castle  if  it  is  only  for  half-an-howr.  It 
is  a  place  of  many  recollections  to  ine,  for  I  cannot  but  think  how  changed  I 
am  from  the  same  Walter  Scott  who  was  so  passionately  ambitious  of  fame 
when  I  wrote  the  song  of  Young  Lochinvar  at  Bothwell ;  and  if  I  could  recall 
the  same  feelings,  where  was  I  to  find  an  audience  so  kind  and  patient,  and 
whose  applause  was  at  the  same  time  so  well  worth  having,  as  Lady  Dalkeith 
and  Lady  Douglas  t  When  one  thinks  of  these  things,  there  is  no  silencing 
one's  regret  but  by  Corporal  Nym's  philosophy :  Things  must  be  as  they 
may.  One  generation  goeth  and  another  cometh." — To  LORD  MONTAGU,  June 
28^,  1825. 


PREFACE. 

ON  the  death  of  Sir  Walter  Scott  in  1832,  his 
entire  literary  remains  were  placed  at  the  disposal  of 
his  son-in-law,  Mr.  John  Gibson  Lockhart.  Among 
these  remains  were  two  volumes  of  a  Journal  which 
had  been  kept  by  Sir  Walter  from  1825  to  1832. 
Mr.  Lockhart  made  large  use  of  this  Journal  in  his  ad- 
mirable life  of  his  father-in-law.  Writing,  however, 
so  short  a  time  after  Scott's  death,  he  could  not  use 
it  so  freely  as  he  might  have  wished,  and,  according 
to  his  own  statement,  it  was  "by  regard  for  the 
feelings  of  living  persons  "  that  he  both  omitted  and 
altered ;  and  indeed  he  printed  no  chapter  of  the 
Diary  in  full. 

There  is  no  longer  any  reason  why  the  Journal 
should  not  be  published  in  its  entirety,  and  by  the 
permission  of  the  Hon.  Mrs.  Maxwell-Scott  it  now 
appears  exactly  as  Scott  left  it — but  for  the  correc- 
tion of  obvious  slips  of  the  pen  and  the  omission  of 
some  details  chiefly  of  family  and  domestic  interest. 

The  original  Journal    consists  of  two  small  4to 


vi  PREFACE. 

volumes,  9  inches  by  8,  bound  in  vellum  and  furnished 
with  strong  locks.  The  manuscript  is  closely  written 
on  both  sides,  and  towards  the  end  shows  painful 
evidence  of  the  physical  prostration  of  the  writer. 
The  Journal  abruptly  closes  towards  the  middle  of 
the  second  volume  with  the  following  entry  —  probably 
the  last  words  ever  penned  by  Scott  — 


In  the  annotations,  it  seemed  most  satisfactory 
to  follow  as  closely  as  possible  the  method  adopted 
by  Mr,  Lockhart.  In  the  case  of  those  parts  of  the 
Journal  that  have  been  already  published,  almost 
all  Mr.  Lockhart's  notes  have  been  reproduced,  and 
these  are  distinguished  by  his  initials.  Extracts 
from  the  Life,  from  James  Skene  of  Rubislaw's  un- 
published Reminiscences,  and  from  unpublished  letters 
of  Scott  himself  and  his  contemporaries,  have  been 
freely  used  wherever  they  seemed  to  illustrate  par- 
ticular passages  in  the  Journal. 


PKEFACE.  vii 

With  regard  to  Scott's  quotations  a  certain  difficulty 
presented  itself.  In  his  Journal  he  evidently  quoted 
from  memory,  and  he  not  unfrequently  makes  con- 
siderable variations  from  the  originals.  Occasionally, 
indeed,  it  would  seem  that  he  deliberately  made 
free  with  the  exact  words  of  his  author,  to  adapt 
them  more  pertinently  to  his  own  mood  or  the 
impulse  of  the  moment.  In  any  case  it  seemed  best 
to  let  Scott's  quotations  appear  as  he  wrote  them. 
His  reading  lay  in  such  curious  and  unfrequented 
quarters  that  to  verify  all  the  sources  is  a  nearly 
impossible  task.  It  is  to  be  remembered,  also, 
that  he  himself  held  very  free  notions  on  the  sub- 
ject of  quotation. 

I  have  to  thank  the  Hon.  Mrs.  Maxwell-Scott  for 
permitting  me  to  retain  for  the  last  three  years  the 
precious  volumes  in  which  the  Journal  is  contained, 
and  for  granting  me  access  to  the  correspondence  of 
Sir  Walter  preserved  at  Abbotsford,  and  I  have 
likewise  to  acknowledge  the  courtesy  of  His  Grace 
the  Duke  of  Buccleuch  for  allowing  me  the  use  of 
the  Scott  letters  at  Dalkeith.  To  Mr.  W.  F.  Skene, 
Historiographer  Royal  for  Scotland,  my  thanks  are 
warmly  rendered  for  intrusting  me  with  his  precious 
heirloom,  the  volume  which  contains  Sir  Walter's 
letters  to  his  father,  and  the  Keminiscences  that 
accompany  them — one  of  many  kind  offices  towards 
me  during  the  last  thirty  years  in  our  relations 


viii  PKEFACE. 

as  author  and  publisher.  I  am  also  obliged  to  Mr. 
Archibald  Constable  for  permitting  me  to  use  the 
interesting  Memorandum  by  James  Ballantyne. 

Finally,  I  have  to  express  my  obligation  to  many 
other  friends,  who  never  failed  cordially  to  respond 
to  any  call  I  made  upon  them. 

D.  D. 

EDINBURGH,  22  DRUMMOND  PLACE, 
October  1,  1890. 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 

VOL.   I. 

PORTRAIT,  painted  by  JOHN  GRAHAM  GILBERT,  R.S.A.,  for  the  Royal 
Society,  Edinburgh.  Copied  by  permission  of  the  Council  of  the 
Society,  .......  Frontispiece 

VIGNKTTE  on  Title-page 

"  The  Dial-Stone  "  in  the  Garden, 
from  drawing  made  at  Abbotsford  by  GEORGE  REID,  R.S.A. 

"  WORK  WHILE  IT  IS  DAY." 
NTS  TAP  EPXETAI. 

"  /  mtut  fume  to  '  wont  while  it  it  called  day  ;  for  the  night  Cometh  when  no  man  can  work.'    1  put  that 
text,  many  a  year  ago,  on  my  dial-stone  ;  but  it  often  preached  in  vain.1' — SCOTT'S  Life,  x.  88. 


MAP  OF  ABBOTSFORD,  from  the  Ordnance  Survey,  1858,      .      .      to  face  p.  414. 


SIR  WALTER  SCOTT'S  JOURNAL. 


NOVEMBER 

[Edinburgh,]  November  20,  1825. — I  have  all  my  life 
regretted  that  I  did  not  keep  a  regular  Journal.  I  have 
myself  lost  recollection  of  much  that  was  interesting,  and  I 
have  deprived  my  family  and  the  public  of  some  curious 
information,  by  not  carrying  this  resolution  into  effect.  I 
have  bethought  me,  on  seeing  lately  some  volumes  of  Byron's 
notes,  that  he  probably  had  hit  upon  the  right  way  of  keep- 
ing such  a  memorandum-book,  by  throwing  aside  all  pretence 
to  regularity  and  order,  and  marking  down  events  just  as 
they  occurred  to  recollection.  I  will  try  this  plan ;  and 
behold  I  have  a  handsome  locked  volume,  such  as  might 
serve  for  a  lady's  album.  Nota  bene,  John  Lockhart,  and 
Anne,  and  I  are  to  raise  a  Society  for  the  suppression  of 
Albums.  It  is  a  most  troublesome  shape  of  mendicity. 
Sir,  your  autograph — a  line  of  poetry — or  a  prose  sen- 
tence!— Among  all  the  sprawling  sonnets,  and  blotted 
trumpery  that  dishonours  these  miscellanies,  a  man  must 
have  a  good  stomach  that  can  swallow  this  botheration  as 
a  compliment. 

I  was  in  Ireland  last  summer,  and  had  a  most  delightful 
tour.  It  cost  me  upwards  of  £500,  including  £100  left 
with  Walter  and  Jane,  for  we  travelled  a  large  party  and  in 
style.  There  is  much  less  exaggerated  about  the  Irish 
than  is  to  be  expected.  Their  poverty  is  not  exaggerated ; 
it  is  on  the  extreme  verge  of  human  misery ;  their  cottages 
would  scarce  serve  for  pig-styes,  even  in  Scotland,  and 

A 


2  JOURNAL.  [Nov. 

their  rags  seem  the  very  refuse  of  a  rag-shop,  and  are 
disposed  on  their  bodies  with  such  ingenious  variety  of 
wretchedness  that  you  would  think  nothing  but  some  sort 
of  perverted  taste  could  have  assembled  so  many  shreds  to- 
gether. You  are  constantly  fearful  that  some  knot  or  loop 
will  give,  and  place  the  individual  before  you  in  all  the 
primitive  simplicity  of  Paradise.  Then  for  their  food,  they 
have  only  potatoes,  and  too  few  of  them.  Yet  the  men  look 
stout  and  healthy,  the  women  buxom  and  well-coloured. 

Dined  with  us,  being  Sunday,  Will.  Clerk  and  Charles 
Kirkpatrick  Sharpe.  W.  C.  is  the  second  son  of  the 
celebrated  author  of  Naval  Tactics*  I  have  known  him 
intimately  since  our  college  days ;  and,  to  my  thinking, 
never  met  a  man  of  greater  powers,  or  more  complete  in- 
formation on  all  desirable  subjects.  In  youth  he  had 
strongly  the  Edinburgh  pruritus  disputandi ;  but  habits  of 
society  have  greatly  mellowed  it,  and  though  still  anxious 
to  gain  your  suffrage  to  his  views,  he  endeavours  rather  to 
conciliate  your  opinion  than  conquer  it  by  force.  Still  there 
is  enough  of  tenacity  of  sentiment  to  prevent,  in  London 
society,  where  all  must  go  slack  and  easy,  W.  C.  from  rising 
to  the  very  top  of  the  tree  as  a  conversation  man,  who  must 
not  only  wind  the  thread  of  his  argument  gracefully,  but 
also  know  when  to  let  go.  But  I  like  the  Scotch  taste 
better ;  there  is  more  matter,  more  information,  above  all, 
more  spirit  in  it.  Clerk  will,  I  am  afraid,  leave  the  world 
little  more  than  the  report  of  his  fame.  He  is  too  indolent 
to  finish  any  considerable  work.2  Charles  Kirkpatrick 
Sharpe  is  another  very  remarkable  man.  He  was  bred 
a  clergyman,  but  did  not  take  orders,  owing  I  believe  to 
a  peculiar  effeminacy  of  voice  which  must  have  been 

1  An   Essay   on  Naval    Tactics,  prototype    of    Darsie    Latimer  in 
Systematical    and   Historical,   uvith  Redgauntlet,  "  admired  through  life 
explanatory  plates.      In  four  parts,  for  talents  and  learning  of   which 
By  John  Clerk.     4to.    Lond.  1790.  he  has  left  no  monument,"  died  at 

2  William  Clerk  of   Eldin,    the  Edinburgh  in  January  1847. 


1825.]  JOUKNAL.  3 

unpleasant  in  reading  prayers.  Some  family  quarrels  occa- 
sioned his  being  indifferently  provided  for  by  a  small 
annuity  from  his  elder  brother,  extorted  by  an  arbitral  decree. 
He  has  infinite  wit  and  a  great  turn  for  antiquarian  lore,  as 
the  publications  of  Kirkton, l  etc.,  bear  witness.  His  drawings 
are  the  most  fanciful  and  droll  imaginable — a  mixture  be- 
tween Hogarth  and  some  of  those  foreign  masters  who 
painted  temptations  of  St.  Anthony,  and  such  grotesque 
subjects.  As  a  poet  he  has  not  a  very  strong  touch.  Strange 
that  his  finger-ends  can  describe  so  well  what  he  cannot 
bring  out  clearly  and  firmly  in  words.  If  he  were  to  make 
drawing  a  resource,  it  might  raise  him  a  large  income.  But 
though  a  lover  of  antiquities,  and  therefore  of  expensive 
trifles,  C.  K.  S.  is  too  aristocratic  to  use  his  art  to  assist  his 
revenue.  He  is  a  very  complete  genealogist,  and  has  made 
many  detections  in  Douglas  and  other  books  on  pedigree, 
which  our  nobles  would  do  well  to  suppress  if  they  had  an 
opportunity.  Strange  that  a  man  should  be  curious  after 
scandal  of  centuries  old !  Not  but  Charles  loves  it  fresh  and 
fresh  also,  for,  being  very  much  a  fashionable  man,  he  is 
always  master  of  the  reigning  report,  and  he  tells  the 
anecdote  with  such  gusto  that  there  is  no  helping  sym- 
pathising with  him — the  peculiarity  of  voice  adding  not  a 
little  to  the  general  effect.  My  idea  is  that  C.  K.  S.,  with 
his  oddities,  tastes,  satire,  and  high  aristocratic  feelings,  re- 
sembles Horace  Walpole — perhaps  in  his  person  also,  in  a 
general  way. — See  Miss  Hawkins'  Anecdotes  2  for  a  descrip- 
tion of  the  author  of  The  Castle  of  Otranto. 

No  other  company  at  dinner  except  my  cheerful  and 
good-humoured  friend  Missie  Macdonald,3  so  called  in  fond- 
ness. One  bottle  of  champagne  with  the  ladies'  assistance, 

1  Secret  and  True  History  of  the      and  Memoirs,  collected  by  Laetitia 
Church  of  Scotland from  the  Restora-      Matilda  -  Hawkins.      8vo.      Lond. 
tion  to  the  year  1678.     4to.     Edin.       1822. 

1817.  3  Miss  Macdonald  Buchanan  of 

2  Anecdotes,  Biographical  Sketches,      Drumtnakill. — j.  G.  L. 


4  JOURNAL.  [Nov. 

two  of  claret.  I  observe  that  both  these  great  connoisseurs 
were  very  nearly,  if  not  quite,  agreed,  that  there  are  no 
absolutely  undoubted  originals  of  Queen  Mary.  But  how 
then  should  we  be  so  very  distinctly  informed  as  to  her 
features  ?  What  has  become  of  all  the  originals  which  sug- 
gested these  innumerable  copies  ?  Surely  Mary  must  have 
been  as  unfortunate  in  this  as  in  other  particulars  of  her  life.1 
November  21. — I  am  enamoured  of  my  journal.  I  wish  the 
zeal  may  but  last.  Once  more  of  Ireland.  I  said  their  poverty 
was  not  exaggerated ;  neither  is  their  wit — nor  their  good- 
humour — nor  their  whimsical  absurdity — nor  their  courage. 

Wit. — I  gave  a  fellow  a  shilling  on  some  occasion  when 
sixpence  was  the  fee.  "Eemember  you  owe  me  sixpence, 
Pat."  "May  your  honour  live  till  I  pay  you!"  There 
was  courtesy  as  well  as  wit  in  this,  and  all  the  clothes 
on  Pat's  back  would  have  been  dearly  bought  by  the  sum 
in  question. 

Good-humour. — There  is  perpetual  kindness  in  the  Irish 
cabin ;  butter-milk,  potatoes,  a  stool  is  offered,  or  a  stone  is 
rolled  that  your  honour  may  sit  down  and  be  out  of  the 
smoke,  and  those  who  beg  everywhere  else  seem  desirous  to 
exercise  free  hospitality  in  their  own  houses.  Their  natural 
disposition  is  turned  to  gaiety  and  happiness ;  while  a  Scotch- 
man is  thinking  about  the  term-day,  or,  if  easy  on  that 
subject,  about  hell  in  the  next  world — while  an  Englishman 
is  making  a  little  hell  of  his  own  in  the  present,  because  his 
muffin  is  not  well  roasted — Pat's  mind  is  always  turned  to 
fun  and  ridicule.  They  are  terribly  excitable,  to  be  sure, 
and  will  murther  you  on  slight  suspicion,  and  find  out  next 
day  that  it  was  all  a  mistake,  and  that  it  was  not  yourself 
they  meant  to  kill  at  all  at  all. 

Absurdity. — They  were   widening  the   road  near  Lord 

1  Mr.  Sharpe,  whose  Letters  and  the    Sir    Mungo  Malagrowther  of 

Memoir   were    published    in    two  The   Fortunes    of  Nigel   some    of 

volumes  8vo,  Edin.  1888,  survived  Sharpe's  peculiarities  are  not  un- 

Sir  Walter  till  the  year  1851.     In  faithfully  mirrored. 


1825.]  JOUKNAL.  5 

Claremont's  seat  as  we  passed.  A  number  of  cars  were 
drawn  up  together  at  a  particular  point,  where  we  also 
halted,  as  we  understood  they  were  blowing  a  rock,  and  the 
shot  was  expected  presently  to  go  off.  After  waiting  two 
minutes  or  so,  a  fellow  called  out  something,  and  our  carriage 
as  a  planet,  and  the  cars  for  satellites,  started  all  forward 
at  once,  the  Irishmen  whooping  and  crying,  and  the  horses 
galloping.  Unable  to  learn  the  meaning  of  this,  I  was  only 
left  to  suppose  that  they  had  delayed  firing  the  intended  shot 
till  we  should  pass,  and  that  we  were  passing  quickly  to  make 
the  delay  as  short  as  possible.  No  such  thing.  By  dint 
of  making  great  haste,  we  got  within  ten  yards  of  the  rock 
when  the  blast  took  place,  throwing  dust  and  gravel 
on  our  carriage,  and  had  our  postillion  brought  us  a  little 
nearer  (it  was  not  for  want  of  hallooing  and  flogging  that 
he  did  not),  we  should  have  had  a  still  more  serious  share 
of  the  explosion.  The  explanation  I  received  from  the 
drivers  was,  that  they  had  been  told  by  the  overseer  that 
as  the  mine  had  been  so  long  in  going  off,  he  dared  say  we 
would  have  time  to  pass  it — so  we  just  waited  long  enough 
to  make  the  danger  imminent.  I  have  only  to  add  that 
two  or  three  people  got  behind  the  carriage,  just  for  nothing 
but  to  see  how  our  honours  got  past. 

Went  to  the  Oil  Gas  Committee1  this  morning,  of  which 
concern  I  am  president,  or  chairman.  It  has  amused  me 
much  by  bringing  me  into  company  with  a  body  of  active, 
business-loving,  money-making  citizens  of  Edinburgh,  chiefly 
Whigs  by  the  way,  whose  sentiments  and  proceedings 

1  One  of  the  numerous  joint-stock  cially,  and,  as  is  told  in  the  Journal, 

adventures  which  -were  so  common  the    rival    company  acquired    the 

in  Edinburgh  at  this  time.     There  stock  and  plant  a  few  years  after 

had  already  been  formed  a  Gas-light  the  formation   of    this    "Oil  Gas 

Company  in  1818,  for  the  manufac-  Co.,"  of  which  Sir  Walter  had  been 

ture  of  gas  from  coal,  but  the  pro-  Chairman  from  1823. 
jectors  of  this  new  venture  believed          See  Life,  vol.  vii.  pp.  141,  144, 

they  could   produce  a  purer  and  197,   251,  374 ;  and  viii.   p.    113 ; 

more  powerful  light  by  the  use  of  Cockburn's  Memorials  (for  1825). 
oil.     It  was  not  successful  commer- 


6  JOUKNAL.  [Nov. 

amuse  me.  The  stock  is  rather  low  in  the  market,  35s.  pre- 
mium instead  of  £5.  It  must  rise,  however,  for  the  advan- 
tages of  the  light  are  undeniable,  and  folks  will  soon  become 
accustomed  to  idle  apprehensions  or  misapprehensions. 
From  £20  to  £25  should  light  a  house  capitally,  supposing 
you  leave  town  in  the  vacation.  The  three  last  quarters  cost 
me  £10,  10s.,  and  the  first,  £8,  was  greatly  overcharged. 
We  will  see  what  this,  the  worst  and  darkest  quarter,  costs. 
Dined  with  Sir  Eobert  Dundas,1  where  we  met  Lord  and 
Lady  Melville.  My  little  nieces  (ex  officio)  gave  us  some 
pretty  music.  I  do  not  know  and  cannot  utter  a  note  of 
music ;  and  complicated  harmonies  seem  to  me  a  babble  of 
confused  though  pleasing  sounds.  Yet  songs  and  simple 
melodies,  especially  if  connected  with  words  and  ideas,  have 
as  much  effect  on  me  as  on  most  people.  But  then  I  hate  to 
hear  a  young  person  sing  without  feeling  and  expression  suited 
to  the  song.  I  cannot  bear  a  voice  that  has  no  more  life  in 
it  than  a  pianoforte  or  a  bugle-horn.  There  is  something 
about  all  the  fine  arts,  of  soul  and  spirit,  which,  like  the  vital 
principle  in  man,  defies  the  research  of  the  most  critical 
anatomist.  You  feel  where  it  is  not,  yet  you  cannot  describe 
what  it  is  you  want.  Sir  Joshua,  or  some  other  great  painter, 
was  looking  at  a  picture  on  which  much  pains  had  been  be- 
stowed— "Why, yes,"  he  said,  in  a  hesitating  manner,  "it  is 
very  clever — very  well  done — can't  find  fault ;  but  it  wants 
something ;  it  wants — it  wants,  damn  me — it  wants  THAT  " — 
throwing  his  hand  over  his  head  and  snapping  his  fingers. 
Tom  Moore's  is  the  most  exquisite  warbling  I  ever  heard. 

1  Sir  Robert  Dundas  of  Beech-  donald  Buchanan,  and  Colin  Mac- 
wood,  one  of  Scott's  colleagues  at  kenzie  of  Portmore.  With  these 
the  "Clerks'  Table," — son  of  the  families,  says  Mr.  Lockhart,  "he 
parish  minister  of  Humbie,  and  and  his  lived  in  such  constant  fami- 
kinsman  of  Lord  and  Lady  Mel-  liarity  of  kindness,  that  the  chil- 
ville;  he  died  in  1835.  Some  of  dren  all  called  their  father's  col- 
the  other  gentlemen  with  whom  leagues  uncles,  and  the  mothers  of 
the  duties  of  his  office  brought  their  little  friends  aunts',  and  in 
Scott  into  close  daily  connection  truth  the  establishment  was  a 
were  David  Hume,  Hector  Mac-  brotherhood." 


1825.]  JOUKNAL.  7 

Next  to  him,  David  Macculloch1  for  Scots  songs.  The 
last,  when  a  boy  at  Dumfries,  was  much  admired  by  Burns, 
who  used  to  get  him  to  try  over  the  words  which  he  composed 
to  new  melodies.  He  is  brother  of  Macculloch  of  Ardwell. 

November  22. — MOORE.  I  saw  Moore  (for  the  first  time, 
I  may  say)  this  season.  We  had  indeed  met  in  public 
twenty  years  ago.  There  is  a  manly  frankness,  and  perfect 
ease  and  good  breeding  about  him  which  is  delightful.  Not 
the  least  touch  of  the  poet  or  the  pedant.  A  little — very 
little  man.  Less,  I  think,  than  Lewis,  and  somewhat  like 
him  in  person;  God  knows,  not  in  conversation,  for  Matt, 
though  a  clever  fellow,  was  a  bore  of  the  first  description. 
Moreover,  he  looked  always  like  a  schoolboy.  I  remember 
a  picture  of  him  being  handed  about  at  Dalkeith  House.  It 
was  a  miniature  I  think  by  Sanders,2  who  had  contrived  to 
muffle  Lewis's  person  in  a  cloak,  and  placed  some  poignard  or 
dark  lanthorn  appurtenance  (I  think)  in  his  hand,  so  as  to 
give  the  picture  the  cast  of  a  bravo.  "  That  like  Mat  Lewis  ? " 
said  Duke  Henry,  to  whom  it  had  passed  in  turn ;  "  why, 
that  is  like  a  MAN  ! "  Imagine  the  effect !  Lewis  was  at  his 
elbow.3  Now  Moore  has  none  of  this  insignificance ;  to  be 
sure  his  person  is  much  stouter  than  that  of  M.  Gr.  L.,  his 
countenance  is  decidedly  plain,  but  the  expression  is  so  very 

1  Mrs.  Thomas  Scott's  brother.  such  elation  as  when  '  the  monk  '  in- 

2  George    L.    Sanders,    born    at  vited  him  to  dine  with  him  at  his 
Kinghorn,  1774 ;  died  in  London,  hotel."      Lewis  died  in  1818,  and 
1846.  Scott  says  of  him,  "  He  did  much 

*  Sir    Walter   told   Moore   that  good  by  stealth,  and  was   a  most 

Lewis  was  the  person  who  first  set  generous  creature — fonder  of  great 

him  upon  trying  his  talent  at  poetry,  people  than  he  ought  to  have  been, 

adding  that  "he  had  passed  the  either  as  a  man  of  talent  or  as  a 

early  part  of  his  life  with  a  set  of  man  of  fashion.      He  had  always 

clever,  rattling,    drinking  fellows,  ladies  and  duchesses  in  his  mouth, 

whose    thoughts    and   talents   lay  and  was  pathetically  fond  of  any 

wholly  out  of  the  region  of  poetry."  one  that  had  a    title.     Mat    had 

Thirty  years  after  having  met  Lewis  queerish  eyes — they  projected  like 

in  Edinburgh  for  the  first  time  in  those  of  some    insects,    and  were 

1798,  he  said  to  Allan  Cunningham,  flattish  on  the  orbit. " 
"  that  he  thought  he  hal  never  felt 


8  JOURNAL.  [Nov. 

animated,  especially  in  speaking  or  singing,  that  it  is  far  more 
interesting  than  the  finest  features  could  have  rendered  it. 

I  was  aware  that  Byron  had  often  spoken,  both  in  private 
society  and  in  his  Journal,  of  Moore  and  myself  in  the 
same  breath,  and  with  the  same  sort  of  regard ;  so  I  was 
curious  to  see  what  there  could  be  in  common  betwixt  us, 
Moore  having  lived  so  much  in  the  gay  world,  I  in  the 
country,  and  with  people  of  business,  and  sometimes  with 
politicians;  Moore  a  scholar,  I  none;  he  a  musician  and 
artist,  I  without  knowledge  of  a  note ;  he  a  democrat,  I  an 
aristocrat — with  many  other  points  of  difference;  besides 
his  being  an  Irishman,  I  a  Scotchman,  and  both  tolerably 
national.  Yet  there  is  a  point  of  resemblance,  and  a  strong 
one.  We  are  both  good-humoured  fellows,  who  rather  seek 
to  enjoy  what  is  going  forward  than  to  maintain  our  dignity 
as  lions ;  and  we  have  both  seen  the  world  too  widely  and 
too  well  not  to  contemn  in  our  souls  the  imaginary  conse- 
quence of  literary  people,  who  walk  with  their  noses  in  the 
air,  and  remind  me  always  of  the  fellow  whom  Johnson  met 
in  an  alehouse,  and  who  called  himself  "  the  great  Twalmley 
— inventor  of  the  floodgate  iron  for  smoothing  linen."  He 
also  enjoys  the  mot  pour  rire,  and  so  do  I. 

Moore  has,  I  think,  been  ill-treated  about  Byron's  Me- 
moirs; he  surrendered  them  to  the  family  (Lord  Byron's 
executors)  and  thus  lost  £2000  which  he  had  raised  upon 
them  at  a  most  distressing  moment  of  his  life.  It  is  true 
they  offered  and  pressed  the  money  on  him  afterwards,  but 
they  ought  to  have  settled  it  with  the  booksellers  and  not 
put  poor  Tom's  spirit  in  arms  against  his  interest.1  I  think 

1  Moore's  friends  seem  to  have  dren   was   a    duty   as    a    father" 

recognised  his  thorough  manliness  (Memoirs,  vol.  i.  pp.  xiii  and  xiv), 

and    independence    of    character,  and  when  Rogers  urged  this  plea 

Lord  John  Russell  testifies  :  ' '  Never  of  family  as  a  reason  why  he  should 

did  he  make  wife  or  family  a  pretext  accept   the    money,     Moore    said, 

for  political  shabbiness — never  did  "  More  mean  things  have  been  done 

he  imagine  that  to  leave  a  disgraced  in  this  world  under  *he  shelter  of 

name  as  an  inheritance  to  his  chil-  '  wife  and  children '  than  under  any 


1825.]  JOUKNAL.  9 

at  least  it  might  have  been  so  managed.  At  any  rate  there 
must  be  an  authentic  life  of  Byron  by  somebody.  Why 
should  they  not  give  the  benefit  of  their  materials  to  Tom 
Moore,  whom  Byron  had  made  the  depositary  of  his  own 
Memoirs? — but  T.  M.  thinks  that  Cam  Hobhouse  has  the 
purpose  of  writing  Byron's  life  himself.  He  and  Moore 
were  at  sharp  words  during  the  negotiation,  and  there  was 
some  explanation  necessary  before  the  affair  ended.  It  was 
a  pity  that  nothing  save  the  total  destruction  of  Byron's 
Memoirs  would  satisfy  his  executors.1  But  there  was  a 
reason — Premat  nox  alta. 

It  would  be  a  delightful  addition  to  life,  if  T.  M.  had 
a  cottage  within  two  miles  of  one.  We  went  to  the  theatre 
together,  and  the  house,  being  luckily  a  good  one,  received 
T.  M.  with  rapture.  I  could  have  hugged  them,  for  it 
paid  back  the  debt  of  the  kind  reception  I  met  with  in 
Ireland.2 

Here  is  a  matter  for  a  May  morning,  but  much  fitter  for 
a  November  one.  The  general  distress  in  the  city  has 
affected  H.  and  E.,3  Constable's  great  agents.  Should  they 
go,  it  is  not  likely  that  Constable  can  stand,  and  such  an 
event  would  lead  to  great  distress  and  perplexity  on  the 
part  of  J.  B.  and  myself.  Thank  God,  I  have  enough  at 
least  to  pay  forty  shillings  in  the  pound,  taking  matters 
at  the  very  worst.  But  much  distress  and  inconvenience 
must  be  the  consequence.  I  had  a  lesson  in  1814  which 
should  have  done  good  upon  me,  but  success  and  abundance 

pretext  worldly-mindedness  can  re-  2  "I  parted  from  Scott,"  says 

sort  to."    To  which  S.  E.  only  said,  Moore,  "with  the  feeling  that  all 

"  Well,   your  life  may  be  a  good  the  world  might  admire  him  in  his 

poem,  but  it  is  a bad  matter  of  works,  but  that  those  only  could 

fact." — Clayden,  Rogers  and  his  learn  to  love  him  as  he  deserved 
Contemporaries,  vol.  i.  p.  378.  who  had  seen  him  at  Abbotsford." 
1  Moore's  Life  of  Byron  was  pub-  Moore  died  February  26,  1852  ;  see 
lished  in  two  vols.  4to  in  1830,  and  Moore's  Life,  vol.  iv.  pp.  329-42, 
dedicated  to  Sir  Walter  Scott  by  and  vol.  v.  pp.  13-14. 
"his  affectionate  friend,  T.  M."  3  Hurst  and  Robinson,  Book- 
See  this  Journal  under  March  4  1828.  sellers,  London. 


10  JOURNAL.  [Nov. 

erased  it  from  my  mind.  But  this  is  no  time  for  journal- 
ising or  moralising  either.  Necessity  is  like  a  sour-faced 
cook-maid,  and  I  a  turn-spit  whom  she  has  flogged  ere  now, 
till  he  mounted  his  wheel.  If  W-st-k1  can  be  out  by 
25th  January  it  will  do  much,  and  it  is  possible. 

's  son  has  saved  his  comrade  on  shipboard  by 

throwing  himself  overboard  and  keeping  the  other  afloat — 
a  very  gallant  thing.  But  the  Chan  giag'  Assoz  asks  me 
to  write  a  poem  on  the  civic  crown,  of  which  he  sends  me 
a  description  quoted  from  Adam's  Antiquities,  which  melli- 
fluous performance  is  to  persuade  the  Admiralty  to  give  the 
young  conservator  promotion.  Oh !  he  is  a  rare  head-piece, 
an  admirable  Merron.  I  do  not  believe  there  is  in  nature 
such  a  full-acorned  Boar.3 

Could  not  write  to  purpose  for  thick-coming  fancies ;  the 
wheel  would  not  turn  easily,  and  cannot  be  forced. 

"  My  spinning-wheel  is  auld  and  stiff, 

The  rock  o't  winna  stand,  sir ; 
To  keep  the  temper-pin  in  tiff 
Employs  aft  my  hand,  sir."  4 

"Went  to  dine  at  the  L[ord]  J[ustice]-C[lerk's]5  as  I  thought 
by  invitation,  but  it  was  for  Tuesday  se'nnight.  Keturned 
very  well  pleased,  not  being  exactly  in  the  humour  for 
company,  and  had  a  beef-steak.  My  appetite  is  surely, 
excepting  in  quantity,  that  of  a  farmer ;  for,  eating  moder- 
ately of  anything,  my  Epicurean  pleasure  is  in  the  most 
simple  diet.  Wine  I  seldom  taste  when  alone,  and  use 
instead  a  little  spirits  and  water.  I  have  of  late  dimin- 
ished the  quantity,  for  fear  of  a  weakness  inductive  to  a 
diabetes — a  disease  which  broke  up  my  father's  health, 
though  one  of  the  most  temperate  men  who  ever  lived.  I 

1  Woodstock  was  at  this  time  4  "  My  Jo  Janet,"  Tea- Table 

nearly  completed.  Miscellany. 

8  Probably  Sir  Walter's  dog-  B  The  Right  Hon.  David  Boyle, 

Italian  for  ' '  great  donkey."  who  was  at  the  time  residing  at  28 

3  Cymbeline,  Act  n.  Sc.  5.  Charlotte  Square. 


1825.]  JOUENAL.  11 

smoke  a  couple  of  cigars  instead,  which  operates  equally  as 

a  sedative — 

"  Just  to  drive  the  cold  winter  away, 
And  drown  the  fatigues  of  the  day." 

I  smoked  a  good  deal  about  twenty  years  ago  when  at 
Ashestiel ;  but,  coming  down  one  morning  to  the  parlour,  I 
found,  as  the  room  was  small  and  confined,  that  the  smell 
was  unpleasant,  and  laid  aside  the  use  of  the  Nicotian  weed 
for  many  years ;  but  was  again  led  to  use  it  by  the  example 
of  my  son,  a  hussar  officer,  and  my  son-in-law,  an  Oxford 
student.  I  could  lay  it  aside  to-morrow;  I  laugh  at  the 
dominion  of  custom  in  this  and  many  things. 

"  We  make  the  giants  first,  and  then — do  not  kill  them." 

November  23. — On  comparing  notes  with  Moore,  I  was 
confirmed  in  one  or  two  points  which  I  had  always  laid 
down  in  considering  poor  Byron.  One  was,  that  like 
Eousseau  he  was  apt  to  be  very  suspicious,  and  a  plain 
downright  steadiness  of  manner  was  the  true  mode  to  main- 
tain his  good  opinion.  Will  Eose  told  me  that  once,  while 
sitting  with  Byron,  he  fixed  insensibly  his  eyes  on  his  feet, 
one  of  which,  it  must  be  remembered,  was  deformed.  Look- 
ing up  suddenly,  he  saw  Byron  regarding  him  with  a  look 
of  concentrated  and  deep  displeasure,  which  wore  off  when 
he  observed  no  consciousness  or  embarrassment  in  the 
countenance  of  Eose.  Murray  afterwards  explained  this, 
by  telling  Eose  that  Lord  Byron  was  very  jealous  of  having 
this  personal  imperfection  noticed  or  attended  to.  In  an- 
other point,  Moore  confirmed  my  previous  opinion,  namely, 
that  Byron  loved  mischief -making.  Moore  had  written  to 
him  cautioning  him  against  the  project  of  establishing  the 
paper  called  the  Liberal,  in  communion  with  such  men  as 
P.  B.  Shelley  and  Hunt,1  on  whom  he  said  the  world  had 

1  A  quarterly  journal  edited  by      which    four    numbers    only    were 
Leigh  Hunt,  "The  Liberal—  Verse      published.     1822-1823. 
and    Prose   from    the  South,"   of 


12  JOUENAL.  [Nov. 

set  its  mark.  Byron  showed  this  to  the  parties.  Shelley 
wrote  a  modest  and  rather  affecting  expostulation  to  Moore.1 
These  two  peculiarities  of  extreme  suspicion  and  love  of 
mischief  are  both  shades  of  the  malady  which  certainly 
tinctured  some  part  of  the  character  of  this  mighty  genius ; 
and,  without  some  tendency  towards  which,  genius — I  mean 
that  kind  which  depends  on  the  imaginative  power — perhaps 
cannot  exist  to  great  extent.  The  wheels  of  a  machine,  to 
play  rapidly,  must  not  fit  with  the  utmost  exactness,  else 
the  attrition  diminishes  the  impetus. 

Another  of  Byron's  peculiarities  was  the  love  of  mysti- 
fying; which  indeed  may  be  referred  to  that  of  mischief. 
There  was  no  knowing  how  much  or  how  little  to  believe 
of  his  narratives.  Instance: — Mr.  Bankes2  expostulating 
with  him  upon  a  dedication  which  he  had  written  in  ex- 
travagant terms  of  praise  to  Cam  Hobhouse,  Byron  told  him 
that  Cam  had  teased  him  into  the  dedication  till  he  had 
said,  "  Well ;  it  shall  be  so, — providing  you  will  write  the 
dedication  yourself " ;  and  affirmed  that  Cam  Hobhouse  did 
write  the  high-coloured  dedication  accordingly.  I  mentioned 
this  to  Murray,  having  the  report  from  Will  Eose,  to  whom 
Bankes  had  mentioned  it.  Murray,  in  reply,  assured  me 
that  the  dedication  was  written  by  Lord  Byron  himself, 
and  showed  it  me  in  his  own  hand.  I  wrote  to  Eose  to 
mention  the  thing  to  Bankes,  as  it  might  have  made  mis- 
chief had  the  story  got  into  the  circle.  Byron  was  disposed 
to  think  all  men  of  imagination  were  addicted  to  mix  fiction 
(or  poetry)  with  their  prose.  He  used  to  say  he  dared 
believe  the  celebrated  courtezan  of  Venice,  about  whom 
Eousseau  makes  so  piquante  a  story,  was,  if  one  could  see 

1  See  Dowden's  Life  of  Shelley,  Smith  was,  I  have  seen  him  at  my 
vol.  ii.  pp.  448-9, 507-8  ;  also  Moore's  own  house  absolutely  overpowered 
Byron,    vol.    v.   pp.   313-321,   and  by  the    superior    facetiousness  of 
Russell's  Moore,  vol.  iii.  p.  353.  W.B."    Mr.  Bankes  died  in  Venice 

2  William     Bankes,     of     whom  in  1855. 
Rogers    said,    "Witty  as    Sydney 


1825.]  JOUENAL.  13 

her,  a  draggle-tailed  wench  enough.  I  believe  that  he 
embellished  his  own  amours  considerably,  and  that  he  was, 
in  many  respects,  le  fanfaron  de  vices  qu'il  riavoit  pas. 
He  loved  to  be  thought  awful,  mysterious,  and  gloomy,  and 
sometimes  hinted  at  strange  causes.  I  believe  the  whole 
to  have  been  the  creation  and  sport  of  a  wild  and  power- 
ful fancy.  In  the  same  manner  he  crammed  people,  as 
it  is  termed,  about  duels,  etc.,  which  never  existed,  or  were 
much  exaggerated. 

Constable  has  been  here  as  lame  as  a  duck  upon  his  legs, 
but  his  heart  and  courage  as  firm  as  a  cock.  He  has  con- 
vinced me  we  will  do  well  to  support  the  London  House. 
He  has  sent  them  about  £5000,  and  proposes  we  should 
borrow  on  our  joint  security  £5000  for  their  accommodation. 
J.  B.  and  E.  Cadell  present.  I  must  be  guided  by  them,  and 
hope  for  the  best.  Certainly  to  part  company  would  be  to 
incur  an  awful  risk. 

What  I  liked  about  Byron,  besides  his  boundless  genius, 
was  his  generosity  of  spirit  as  well  as  purse,  and  his  utter 
contempt  of  all  the  affectations  of  literature,  from  the  school- 
magisterial  style  to  the  lackadaisical.  Byron's  example  has 
formed  a  sort  of  upper  house  of  poetry.  There  is  Lord 
Leveson  Gower,  a  very  clever  young  man.1  Lord  Porchester 
too,2  nephew  to  Mrs.  Scott  of  Harden,  a  young  man  who 
lies  on  the  carpet  and  looks  poetical  and  dandyish — fine 

lad  too,  but — 

"  There  will  be  many  peers 
Ere  such  another  Byron." 

Talking  of  Abbotsford,  it  begins  to  be  haunted  by 
too  much  company  of  every  kind,  but  especially  foreigners. 
I  do  not  like  them.  I  hate  fine  waistcoats  and  breast-pins 

1  Lord    Leveson    Gower,    after-          2  Henry   J.    G.    Herbert,   Lord 

wards  first  Earl  of  Ellesmere,  had  Porchester,  afterwards  third  Earl 

already  published   his  translation  of  Carnarvon,  had  published  The 

of  Faust  in  1823,  and  a  volume  of  Moor  in  1825,  and  Don  Pedro  in 

"original   poems,"  and  "transla-  1826. 
tions,"  in  the  following  year. 


14  JOUKNAL.  [Nov. 

upon  dirty  shirts.  I  detest  the  impudence  that  pays  a 
stranger  compliments,  and  harangues  about  his  works  in 
the  author's  house,  which  is  usually  ill-breeding.  Moreover, 
they  are  seldom  long  of  making  it  evident  that  they  know 
nothing  about  what  they  are  talking  of,  except  having  seen 
the  Lady  of  the  Lake  at  the  Opera. 

Dined  at  St.  Catherine's1  with  Lord  Advocate,  Lord 
and  Lady  Melville,  Lord  Justice-Clerk,2  Sir  Archibald 
Campbell  of  Succoth,  all  class  companions  and  acquainted 
well  for  more  than  forty  years.  All  except  Lord  J.  C.  were 
at  Eraser's  class,  High  School.3  Boyle  joined  us  at  college. 
There  are,  besides,  Sir  Adam  Ferguson,  Colin  Mackenzie, 
James  Hope,  Dr.  James  Buchan,  Claud  Eussell,  and  perhaps 
two  or  three  more  of  and  about  the  same  period — but 

"  Apparent  rari  nantes  in  gurgite  vasto."  4 

November  24. — Talking  of  strangers,  London  held,  some 
four  or  five  years  since,  one  of  those  animals  who  are  lions 
at  first,  but  by  transmutation  of  two  seasons  become  in 
regular  course  Boars  ! — Ugo  Foscolo  by  name,  a  haunter  of 
Murray's  shop  and  of  literary  parties.  Ugly  as  a  baboon, 
and  intolerably  conceited,  he  spluttered,  blustered,  and 
disputed,  without  even  knowing  the  principles  upon  which 
men  of  sense  render  a  reason,  and  screamed  all  the  while 
like  a  pig  when  they  cut  its  throat.  Another  such  Ani- 

maluccio  is  a  brute  of  a  Sicilian  Marquis  de who  wrote 

something  about  Byron.     He  inflicted  two  days  on  us  at 

1  St.  Catherine's,  the  seat  of  Sir  self    entirely    to    literature.       Sir 

William    Kae,    Bart.,    then    Lord  William  Rae  died  at  St.  Catherine's 

Advocate,  is  about  three  miles  from  on  the  19th  October  1842. 

Edinburgh.-J.  G.  L.     Sir  William  2  Dayid  Boyle  of  Shewalton)  L. 

Rae's  refusal  of  a  legal  appoint-  j    c    from   1811>   and  Lord  pre. 

ment    to    Mr.    Lockhart    (on    the  sident    from    1841    tm  1852.      He 

ground  that  as   a  just  patron  he  djed  jn  jggg 
could  not  give  it  to  the  son-in-law 

of  his  old  friend!!)  was  understood  °  See    Autobiography,     1787,    in 

to  be  the  cause  of  Mr.  Lockhart's  LiSe>  vo1-  »•  PP-  39»  40- 

quitting  the  Bar  and  devoting  him-  4  Virg.  jEn.  i.  122. 


1825.]  JOURNAL.  15 

Abbotsford.  They  never  know  what  to  make  of  them- 
selves in  the  forenoon,  but  sit  tormenting  the  women  to 
play  at  proverbs  and  such  trash. 

Foreigner  of  a  different  cast, — Count  Olonym  (Olonyne — 
that 's  it),  son  of  the  President  of  the  Royal  Society  and  a 
captain  in  the  Imperial  Guards.  He  is  mean-looking  and 
sickly,  but  has  much  sense,  candour,  and  general  informa- 
tion. There  was  at  Abbotsford,  and  is  here,  for  educa- 
tion just  now,  a  young  Count  Davidoff,  with  a  tutor 
Mr.  Collyer.  He  is  a  nephew  of  the  famous  Orloffs.  It  is 
quite  surprising  how  much  sense  and  sound  thinking  this 
youth  has  at  the  early  age  of  sixteen,  without  the  least  self- 
conceit  or  forwardness.  On  the  contrary,  he  seems  kind, 
modest,  and  ingenuous.1  To  questions  which  I  asked  about 
the  state  of  Russia  he  answered  with  the  precision  and  accu- 
racy of  twice  his  years.  I  should  be  sorry  the  saying  were 
verified  in  him — 

"  So  wise  so  young,  they  say,  do  ne'er  live  long."  2 

Saw  also  at  Abbotsford  two  Frenchmen  whom  I  liked, 
friends  of  Miss  Dumergue.  One,  called  Le  Nbir,  is  the 
author  of  a  tragedy  which  he  had  the  grace  never  to  quote, 
and  which  I,  though  poked  by  some  malicious  persons,  had 
not  the  grace  even  to  hint  at.  They  were  disposed  at  first 
to  be  complimentary,  but  I  convinced  them  it  was  not  the 
custom  here,  and  they  took  it  well,  and  were  agreeable. 

A  little  bilious  this  morning,  for  the  first  time  these  six 
months.  It  cannot  be  the  London  matters  which  stick  on 

1  M.  Davidoff  has,  in  his  mature  -  King    Richard    III.,    Act   in. 
life,  amply   justified  Sir  Walter's  Sc.  1.     Count  Orloff  Davidoff  lived 
prognostications.     He  has,  I  under-  to  falsify  this  "saying."    He  re- 
stand,   published    in  the    Russian  visited  England  in  1872,  and  had 
language  a  tribute  to  the  memory  the  pleasure  of  meeting  with  Scott's 
of  Scott.     But  his  travels  in  Greece  great-granddaughter,    and  talking 
and  Asia  Minor  are  well  known,  to  her  of  these  old  happy  Abbots- 
and  considered  as  in  a  high  degree  ford  days, 
honourable  to  his  taste  and  learn- 
ing.— [1839.  ]—J.  Q.  L. 


16  JOURNAL.  [Nov. 

my  stomach,  for  that  is  mending,  and  may  have  good  effects 
on  myself  and  others. 

Dined  with  Eobert  Cockburn.  Company,  Lord  Melville 
and  family ;  Sir  John  and  Lady  Hope ;  Lord  and  Lady  R. 
Kerr,  and  so  forth.  Combination  of  colliers  general,  and 
coals  up  to  double  price ;  the  men  will  not  work,  although, 
or  rather  because,  they  can  make  from  thirty  to  forty  shillings 
per  week.  Lord  R.  K  told  us  that  he  had  a  letter  from  Lord 
Forbes  (son  of  Earl  Granard,  Ireland),  that  he  was  asleep 
in  his  house  at  Castle  Forbes,  when  awakened  by  a  sense 
of  suffocation  which  deprived  him  of  the  power  of  stirring  a 
limb,  yet  left  him  the  consciousness  that  the  house  was  on 
fire.  At  this  moment,  and  while  his  apartment  was  in 
flames,  his  large  dog  jumped  on  the  bed,  seized  his  shirt, 
and  dragged  him  to  the  staircase,  where  the  fresh  air  restored 
his  powers  of  exertion  and  of  escape.  This  is  very  different 
from  most  cases  of  preservation  of  life  by  the  canine  race, 
when  the  animal  generally  jumps  into  the  water,  in  which 
[element]  he  has  force  and  skill.  That  of  fire  is  as  hostile 
to  him  as  to  mankind. 

November  25. — Read  Jeffrey's  neat  and  well-intended 
address  x  to  the  mechanics  upon  their  combinations.  Will  it 
do  good  ?  Umph.  It  takes  only  the  hand  of  a  Lilliputian 
to  light  a  fire,  but  would  require  the  diuretic  powers  of 
Gulliver  to  extinguish  it.  The  Whigs  will  live  and  die  in 
the  heresy  that  the  world  is  ruled  by  little  pamphlets  and 
speeches,  and  that  if  you  can  sufficiently  demonstrate 
that  a  line  of  conduct  is  most  consistent  with  men's 
interest,  you  have  therefore  and  thereby  demonstrated  that 
they  will  at  length,  after  a  few  speeches  on  the  subject, 
adopt  it  of  course.  In  this  case  we  would  have  [no]  need  of 
laws  or  churches,  for  I  am  sure  there  is  no  difficulty  in 
proving  that  moral,  regular,  and  steady  habits  conduce  to 

1   Combinations    of    Workmen.    Substance  of  a  speech    by   Francis 
Jeffrey.     8vo.     Edin.  1825. 


1825.]  JOUKNAL.  17 

men's  best  interest,  and  that  vice  is  not  sin  merely,  but  folly. 
But  of  these  men  each  has  passions  and  prejudices,  the 
gratification  of  which  he  prefers,  not  only  to  the  general 
weal,  but  to  that  of  himself  as  an  individual.  Under  the 
action  of  these  wayward  impulses  a  man  drinks  to-day 
though  he  is  sure  of  starving  to-morrow.  He  murders  to- 
morrow though  he  is  sure  to  be  hanged  on  Wednesday; 
and  people  are  so  slow  to  believe  that  which  makes  against 
their  own  predominant  passions,  that  mechanics  will  com- 
bine to  raise  the  price  for  one  week,  though  they  destroy 
the  manufacture  for  ever.  The  best  remedy  seems  to  be 
the  probable  supply  of  labourers  from  other  trades.  Jeffrey 
proposes  each  mechanic  shall  learn  some  other  trade  than 
his  own,  and  so  have  two  strings  to  his  bow.  He  does 
not  consider  the  length  of  a  double  apprenticeship.  To 
make  a  man  a  good  weaver  and  a  good  tailor  would  require 
as  much  time  as  the  patriarch  served  for  his  two  wives,  and 
after  all,  he  would  be  but  a  poor  workman  at  either  craft. 
Each  mechanic  has,  indeed,  a  second  trade,  for  he  can  dig 
and  do  rustic  work.  Perhaps  the  best  reason  for  breaking 
up  the  association  will  prove  to  be  the  expenditure  of  the 
money  which  they  have  been  simple  enough  to  levy  from 
the  industrious  for  the  support  of  the  idle.  How  much 
provision  for  the  sick  and  the  aged,  the  widow  and  the 
orphan,  has  been  expended  in  the  attempt  to  get  wages 
which  the  manufacturer  cannot  afford  them,  with  any  profit- 
able chance  of  selling  his  commodity  ? 

I  had  a  bad  fall  last  night  coming  home.  There  were 
unfinished  houses  at  the  east  end  of  Atholl  Place,1  and  as 
I  was  on  foot,  I  crossed  the  street  to  avoid  the  material 
which  lay  about ;  but,  deceived  by  the  moonlight,  I  stepped 
ankle-deep  in  a  sea  of  mud  (honest  earth  and  water,  thank 
God),  and  fell  on  my  hands.  Never  was  there  such  a  re- 

1  Mr.  Robert  Cockburn,  Lord  Cockburn's  brother,  was  then  living  at 
No.  7  Atholl  Crescent. 


18  JOURNAL.  [Nov. 

presentative  of  Wall  in  Pyramus  and  Thisbe — I  was  abso- 
lutely rough-cast.  Luckily  Lady  S.  had  retired  when  I 
came  home ;  so  I  enjoyed  iny  tub  of  water  without  either 
remonstrance  or  condolences.  Cockburn's  hospitality  will 
get  the  benefit  and  renown  of  my  downfall,  and  yet  has  no 
claim  to  it.  In  future  though,  I  must  take  a  coach  at  night 
— a  control  on  one's  freedom,  but  it  must  y  B  Within  e-  ht 

be  Submitted  to.  I  found  a  letter  from  weeks  after  recording 
r-r»  -i  /-<r  i  ti-i  •  •  t  '  this  graceful  act  of 

[K.]  C[adell],  giving  a  cheering  account  submLion,  i  found 
of  things  in  London.  Their  correspondent  I was  unable  to  keep 

,  a  carriage  at  all. 

is  getting  into  his  strength.     Three  days 
ago  I  would  have  been  contented  to  buy  this  consola,  as  Judy 
says,1  dearer  than  by  a  dozen  falls  in  the  mud.     For  had 
the  great  Constable  fallen,  0  my  countrymen,  what  a  fall 
were  there ! 

Mrs.  Coutts,  with  the  Duke  of  St.  Albans  and  Lady 
Charlotte  Beauclerk,  called  to  take  leave  of  us.  When  at 
Abbotsford  his  suit  throve  but  coldly.  She  made  me,  I 
believe,  her  confidant  in  sincerity.2  She  had  refused  him 
twice,  and  decidedly.  He  was  merely  on  the  footing  of 
friendship.  I  urged  it  was  akin  to  love.  She  allowed  she 
might  marry  the  Duke,  only  she  had  at  present  not  the  least 
intention  that  way.  Is  this  frank  admission  more  favourable 
for  the  Duke  than  an  absolute  protestation  against  the 
possibility  of  such  a  marriage  ?  I  think  not.  It  is  the 
fashion  to  attend  Mrs.  Coutts'  parties  and  to  abuse  her.  I 
have  always  found  her  a  kind,  friendly  woman,  without 
either  affectation  or  insolence  in  the  display  of  her  wealth, 
and  most  willing  to  do  good  if  the  means  be  shown  to  her. 
She  can  be  very  entertaining  too,  as  she  speaks  without 

1  This  alludes  to  a  strange  old  tion.  Consola  for  consolation — 
woman,  keeper  of  a  public-house  bothera  for  botheration,  etc.  etc. 
among  the  Wicklow  mountains,  Lord  Plunkett  had  taken  care  to 
who,  among  a  world  of  oddities,  parade  Judy  and  all  her  peculiar- 
cut  short  every  word  ending  in  ities. — J.  G.  L. 
tion,  by  the  omission  of  the  termina-  -  See  the  Duchess's  Letter,  p.  414. 


1825.]  JOUKNAL.  19 

scruple  of  her  stage  life.  So  much  wealth  can  hardly  be 
enjoyed  without  some  ostentation.  But  what  then  ?  If  the 
Duke  marries  her,  he  ensures  an  immense  fortune ;  if  she 
marries  him,  she  has  the  first  rank.  If  he  marries  a  woman 
older  than  himself  by  twenty  years,  she  marries  a  man 
younger  in  wit  by  twenty  degrees.  I  do  not  think  he  will 
dilapidate  her  fortune — he  seems  quiet  and  gentle.  I  do  not 
think  that  she  will  abuse  his  softness — of  disposition,  shall 
I  say,  or  of  heart  ?  The  disparity  of  ages  concerns  no  one 
but  themselves ;  so  they  have  my  consent  to  marry,  if  they 
can  get  each  other's.  Just  as  this  is  written,  enter  my  Lord 
of  St.  Albans  and  Lady  Charlotte,  to  beg  I  would  recommend 
a  book  of  sermons  to  Mrs.  Coutts.  Much  obliged  for  her 
good  opinion :  recommended  Logan's1 — one  poet  should  always 
speak  for  another.  The  mission,  I  suppose,  was  a  little  dis- 
play on  the  part  of  good  Mrs.  Coutts  of  authority  over  her 
high  aristocratic  suitor.  I  do  not  suspect  her  of  turning 
dtvote,  and  retract  my  consent  given  as  above,  unless  she 
remains  "  lively,  brisk,  and  jolly."2 

Dined  quiet  with  wife  and  daughter.  E[obert]  Cadell 
looked  in  in  the  evening  on  business. 

I  here  register  my  purpose  to  practise  economics.  I  have 
little  temptation  to  do  otherwise.  Abbotsford  is  all  that  I 
can  make  it,  and  too  large  for  the  property ;  so  I  resolve — 

No  more  building ; 

No  purchases  of  land  till  times  are  quite  safe  ; 

No  buying  books  or  expensive  trifles — I  mean  to  any 
extent;  and 

Clearing  off  encumbrances,  with  the  returns  of  this  year's 
labour ; — 

1  The  Rev.  John  Logan,  minister  72-76.  The  marriage  took  place  on 

of  South  Leith,  1748-1788.  The  June  16,  1827,  the  lady  having 

"Sermons"  were  not  published  previously  asked  the  consent  of 

until  1790-91.  George  iv. ! !  A  droll  account  of  the 

reception  of  her  Mercure  galant  at 

3  For  an  account  of  her  visit  to  Windsor  is  given  in  the  North 

Abbotsford,  see  Life,  vol.  viii.  pp.  British  Review,  vol.  xxxix.  p.  349. 


20  JOUENAL.  [Nov. 

Which  resolutions,  with  health  and  my  habits  of  industry, 
will  make  me  "  sleep  in  spite  of  thunder." 

After  all,  it  is  hard  that  the  vagabond  stock-jobbing 
Jews  should,  for  their  own  purposes,  make  such  a  shake  of 
credit  as  now  exists  in  London,  and  menace  the  credit  of 
men  trading  on  sure  funds  like  H[urst]  and  E[obinson].  It 
is  just  like  a  set  of  pickpockets,  who  raise  a  mob,  in  which 
honest  folks  are  knocked  down  and  plundered,  that  they  may 
pillage  safely  in  the  midst  of  the  confusion  they  have  excited. 

November  26. — The  court  met  late,  and  sat  till  one; 
detained  from  that  hour  till  four  o'clock,  being  engaged  in 
the  perplexed  affairs  of  Mr.  James  Stewart  of  Brugh.  This 
young  gentleman  is  heir  to  a  property  of  better  than  £1000 
a  year  in  Orkney.  His  mother  married  very  young,  and  was 
wife,  mother,  and  widow  in  the  course  of  the  first  year. 
Being  unfortunately  under  the  direction  of  a  careless  agent, 
she  was  unlucky  enough  to  embarrass  her  own  affairs  by 
money  transactions  with  this  person.  I  was  asked  to  accept 
the  situation  of  one  of  the  son's  curators ; 

,  ,  ,  .          ~.  .  ,1    was   obliged  to 

and  trust  to   clear    out   his    affairs    and    give  this  up  in  con. 
hers — at   least   I   will  not   fail  for  want    sequence  of  my  own 

.  misfortunes. 

of  application.  I  have  lent  her  £300  on  a 
second  (and  therefore  doubtful)  security  over  her  house  in 
Newington,  bought  for  £1000,  and  on  which  £600  is  already 
secured.  I  have  no  connection  with  the  family  except  that 
of  compassion,  and  may  not  be  rewarded  even  by  thanks 
when  the  young  man  comes  of  age.  I  have  known  my 
father  often  so  treated  by  those  whom  he  had  laboured  to 
serve.  But  if  we  do  not  run  some  hazard  in  our  attempts 
to  do  good,  where  is  the  merit  of  them  ?  So  I  will  bring 
through  my  Orkney  laird  if  I  can.  Dined  at  home  quiet 
with  Lady  S.  and  Anne. 

November  27. — Some  time  since  John  Murray  entered  into 
a  contract  with  my  son-in-law,  John  G-.  Lockhart,  giving  him 
on  certain  ample  conditions  the  management  and  editorship  of 


1825.]  JOURNAL.  21 

the  Quarterly  Revieiv,  for  which  they  could  certainly  scarcely 
find  a  fitter  person,  both  from  talents  and  character.  It 
seems  that  Barrow1  and  one  or  two  stagers  have  taken  alarm 
at  Lockhart's  character  as  a  satirist,  and  his  supposed  acces- 
sion to  some  of  the  freaks  in  Blackwood's  Magazine,  and 
down  comes  young  D'Israeli  2  to  Scotland  imploring  Lockhart 
to  make  interest  with  my  friends  in  London  to  remove  objec- 
tions, and  so  forth.  I  have  no  idea  of  telling  all  and  sundry 
that  my  son-in-law  is  not  a  slanderer,  or  a  silly  thoughtless 
lad,  although  he  was  six  or  seven  years  ago  engaged  in  some 
light  satires.  I  only  wrote  to  Heber  and  to  Southey — the  first 
upon  the  subject  of  the  reports  which  had  startled  Murray, 
(the  most  timorous,  as  Byron  called  him,  of  all  God's  book- 
sellers), and  such  a  letter  as  he  may  show  Barrow  if  he  judges 
proper.  To  Southey  I  wrote  more  generally,  acquainting  him 
of  my  son's  appointment  to  the  Editorship,  and  mentioning 
his  qualifications,  touching,  at  the  same  time,  on  his  very 
slight  connection  with  Blackwood's  Magazine,  and  his  inno- 
cence as  to  those  gambades  which  may  have  given  offence, 
and  which,  I  fear,  they  may  ascribe  too  truly  to  an 
eccentric  neighbour  of  their  own.  I  also  mentioned  that  I 
had  heard  nothing  of  the  affair  until  the  month  of  October. 
I  am  concerned  that  Southey  should  know  this ;  for,  having 
been  at  the  Lakes  in  September,  I  would  not  have  him  suppose 
that  I  had  been  using  interest  with  Canning  or  Ellis  to 
supersede  young  Mr.  Coleridge,3  their  editor,  and  place  my 
son-in-law  in  the  situation;  indeed  I  was  never  more  surprised 
than  when  this  proposal  came  upon  us.  I  suppose  it  had 
come  from  Canning  originally,  as  he  was  sounding  Anne  when 
at  Colonel  Bolton's  4  about  Lockhart's  views,  etc.  To  me  he 
never  hinted  anything  on  the  subject.  Other  views  are  held 

1Sir  John  Barrow,  the  well-known  3  In  after  years  Sir  John  Taylor 

Secretary  to  the  Admiralty,  who  Coleridge  (1790-1876),  one  of  the 

died  in  1848  in  his  eighty-fifth  year.  Judges  of    the  Court    of    Queen's 

2  Benjamin  Disraeli,    afterwards  Bench. 

LordBeaconsfield.  *  Storrs,  Windermere. 


22  JOURNAL.  [Nov. 

out  to  Lockhart  which  may  turn  to  great  advantage.  Only 
one  person  (John  Cay l  of  Charlton)  knows  their  object,  and 
truly  I  wish  it  had  not  been  confided  to  any  one.  Yesterday 
I  had  a  letter  from  Murray  in  answer  to  one  I  had  written  in 
something  a  determined  style,  for  I  had  no  idea  of  permitting 
him  to  start  from  the  course  after  my  son  giving  up  his  situa- 
tion and  profession,  merely  because  a  contributor  or  two  chose 
to  suppose  gratuitously  that  Lockhart  was  too  imprudent  for 
the  situation.  My  physic  has  wrought  well,  for  it  brought  a 
letter  from  Murray  saying  all  was  right,  that  D'Israeli  was 
sent  to  me,  not  to  Lockhart,  and  that  I  was  only  invited  to 
write  two  confidential  letters,  and  other  incoherencies — which 
intimate  his  fright  has  got  into  another  quarter.  It  is  inter- 
lined and  franked  by  Barrow,  which  shows  that  all  is  well, 
and  that  John's  induction  into  his  office  will  be  easy  and 
pleasant.  I  have  not  the  least  fear  of  his  success  ;  his  talents 
want  only  a  worthy  sphere  of  exertion.  He  must  learn,  how- 
ever, to  despise  petty  adversaries.  No  good  sportsman  ought 
to  shoot  at  crows  unless  for  some  special  purpose.  To  take 
notice  of  such  men  as  Hazlitt  and  Hunt  in  the  Quarterly 
would  be  to  introduce  them  into  a  world  which  is  scarce 
conscious  of  their  existence.  It  is  odd  enough  that  many 
years  since  I  had  the  principal  share  in  erecting  this  Beview 
which  has  been  since  so  prosperous,  and  now  it  is  placed  under 
the  management  of  my  son-in-law  upon  the  most  honour- 
able principle  of  detur  digniori.  Yet  there  are  sad  drawbacks 
so  far  as  family  comfort  is  concerned.  To-day  is  Sunday, 
when  they  always  dined  with  us,  and  generally  met  a  family 
friend  or  two,  but  we  are  no  longer  to  expect  them.  In  the 
country,  where  their  little  cottage  was  within  a  mile  or  two 
of  Abbotsford,  we  shall  miss  their  society  still  more,  for  Chiefs- 
wood  was  the  perpetual  object  of  our  walks,  rides,  and  drives. 
Lockhart  is  such  an  excellent  family  man,  so  fond  of  his  wife 

1  John  Cay,  member  of  the  Scotch      one  of  Mr.  Lockhart's  oldest  friends ; 
Bar,  Sheriff  of  Linlithgow.    He  was      he  died  in  1865. 


1825.]  JOUKNAL.  23 

and  child,  that  I  hope  all  will  go  well.  A  letter  from  Lockhart 
in  the  evening.  All  safe  as  to  his  unanimous  reception  in 
London ;  his  predecessor,  young  [Coleridge],  handsomely,  and 
like  a  gentleman,  offers  his  assistance  as  a  contributor,  etc. 

November  28. — I  have  the  less  dread,  or  rather  the  less 
anxiety,  about  the  consequences  of  this  migration,  that  I 
repose  much  confidence  in  Sophia's  tact  and  good  sense. 
Her  manners  are  good,  and  have  the  appearance  of  being 
perfectly  natural.  She  is  quite  conscious  of  the  limited  range 
of  her  musical  talents,  and  never  makes  them  common  or 
produces  them  out  of  place, — a  rare  virtue  ;  moreover  she  is 
proud  enough,  and  will  not  be  easily  netted  and  patronised  by 
any  of  that  class  of  ladies  who  may  be  called  Lion-providers 
for  town  and  country.  She  is  domestic  besides,  and  will  not 
be  disposed  to  gad  about.  Then  she  seems  an  economist,  and 
on  £3000,1  living  quietly,  there  should  be  something  to  save. 
Lockhart  must  be  liked  where  his  good  qualities  are  known, 
and  where  his  fund  of  information  has  room  to  be  displayed. 
But,  notwithstanding  a  handsome  exterior  and  face,  I  am  not 
sure  he  will  succeed  in  London  Society ;  he  sometimes  reverses 
the  proverb,  and  gives  the  volte  strette  e  pensiere  sciolti,  with- 
draws his  attention  from  the  company,  or  attaches  himself  to 
some  individual,  gets  into  a  corner,  and  seems  to  be  quizzing 
the  rest.  This  is  the  want  of  early  habits  of  being  in  society, 
and  a  life  led  much  at  college.  Nothing  is,  however,  so 
popular,  and  so  deservedly  so,  as  to  take  an  interest  in  what- 
ever is  going  forward  in  society.  A  wise  man  always  finds 
his  account  in  it,  and  will  receive  information  and  fresh  views 
of  life  even  in  the  society  of  fools.  Abstain  from  society 
altogether  when  you  are  not  able  to  play  some  part  in  it 

1  Moore  records  that  Scott  told  him,"  Moore's  Zh'ary,  under  Oct.  29, 

him  "  Lockhart  was  about  to  under-  vol.  iv.  p.  334.     Jeffrey  had  £700 

take  the  Quarterly,  has  agreed  for  a  year  as  Editor  of  the  Edinburgh, 

five  years  ;   salary  £1200  a  year ;  and  £2800  for  contributors  :  June 

and  if  he  writes  a  certain  number  1823,  see  Moore's  Diary,  vol.   iv. 

of  articles  it  will  be  £1500  a  year  to  p.  89. 


24  JOUENAL.  [Nov. 

This  reserve,  and  a  sort  of  Hidalgo  air  joined  to  his  character 
as  a  satirist,  have  done  the  best-humoured  fellow  in  the  world 
some  injury  in  the  opinion  of  Edinburgh  folks.  In  London 
it  is  of  less  consequence  whether  he  please  in  general  society 
or  not,  since  if  he  can  establish  himself  as  a  genius  it  will 
only  be  called  "  Pretty  Fanny's  Way." 

People  make  me  the  oddest  requests.  It  is  not  unusual 
for  an  Oxonian  or  Cantab,  who  has  outrun  his  allowance, 
and  of  whom  I  know  nothing,  to  apply  to  me  for  the  loan  of 
£20,  £50,  or  £100.  A  captain  of  the  Danish  naval  service 
writes  to  me,  that  being  in  distress  for  a  sum  of  money 
by  which  he  might  transport  himself  to  Columbia,  to  offer 
his  services  in  assisting  to  free  that  province,  he  had 
dreamed  I  generously  made  him  a  present  of  it.  I  can  tell 
him  his  dream  by  contraries.  I  begin  to  find,  like  Joseph 
Surface,  that  too  good  a  character  is  inconvenient.  I  don't 
know  what  I  have  done  to  gain  so  much  credit  for  generosity, 
but  I  suspect  I  owe  it  to  being  supposed,  as  Puff1  says,  one 
of  those  "  whom  Heaven  has  blessed  with  affluence."  Not 
too  much  of  that  neither,  my  dear  petitioners,  though  I 
may  thank  myself  that  your  ideas  are  not  correct. 

Dined  at  Melville  Castle,  whither  I  went  through  a 
snow-storm.  I  was  glad  to  find  myself  once  more  in  a  place 
connected  with  many  happy  days.  Met  Sir  E.  Dundas  and 
my  old  friend  George,  now  Lord  Abercromby,2  with  his  lady, 
and  a  beautiful  girl,  his  daughter.  He  is  what  he  always 
was — the  best-humoured  man  living ;  and  our  meetings,  now 
more  rare  than  usual,  are  seasoned  with  a  recollection  of 
old  frolics  and  old  friends.  I  am  entertained  to  see  him 
just  the  same  he  has  always  been,  never  yielding  up  his  own 
opinion  in  fact,  and  yet  in  words  acquiescing  in  all  that 
could  be  said  against  it.  George  was  always  like  a  willow — 
he  never  offered  resistance  to  the  breath  of  argument,  but 

1  Sheridan's  Critic,  Act  I.  Sc.  2.        of  Sir  Ralph,  the  hero  of  the  battle 
3  George  Abercromby,  eldest  son      of  Alexandria. 


1825.]  JOURNAL.  25 

never  moved  from  his  rooted  opinion,  blow  as  it  listed. 
Exaggeration  might  make  these  peculiarities  highly  dramatic : 
Conceive  a  man  who  always  seems  to  be  acquiescing  in  your 
sentiments,  yet  never  changes  his  own,  and  this  with  a  sort 
of  'bonhomie  which  shows  there  is  not  a  particle  of  deceit 
intended.  He  is  only  desirous  to  spare  you  the  trouble  of 
contradiction. 

November  29. — A  letter  from  Southey,  malcontent  about 
Murray  having  accomplished  the  change  in  the  Quarterly 
without  speaking  to  him,  and  quoting  the  twaddle  of  some 
old  woman,  male  or  female,  about  Lockhart's  earlier  jeux 
d'esprit,  but  concluding  most  kindly  that  in  regard  to  my 
daughter  and  me  he  did  not  mean  to  withdraw.  That  he 
has  done  yeoman's  service  to  the  Review  is  certain,  with  his 
genius,  his  universal  reading,  his  powers  of  regular  industry, 
and  at  the  outset  a  name  which,  though  less  generally 
popular  than  it  deserves,  is  still  too  respectable  to  be  with- 
drawn without  injury.  I  could  not  in  reply  point  out  to 
him  what  is  the  truth,  that  his  rigid  Toryism  and  High 
Church  prejudices  rendered  him  an  unsafe  counsellor  in  a 
matter  where  the  spirit  of  the  age  must  be  consulted ;  but  I 
pointed  out  to  him  what  I  am  sure  is  true,  that  Murray, 
apprehensive  of  his  displeasure,  had  not  ventured  to  write 
to  him  out  of  mere  timidity  and  not  from  any  [intention  to 
offend].  I  treated  [lightly]  his  old  woman's  apprehensions  and 
cautions,  and  all  that  gossip  about  friends  and  enemies,  to 
which  a  splendid  number  or  two  will  be  a  sufficient  answer, 
And  I  accepted  with  due  acknowledgment  his  proposal  of 
continued  support.  I  cannot  say  I  was  afraid  of  his  with- 
drawing. Lockhart  will  have  hard  words  with  him,  for, 
great  as  Southey's  powers  are,  he  has  not  the  art  to  make 
them  work  popularly ;  he  is  often  diffuse,  and  frequently  sets 
much  value  on  minute  and  unimportant  facts,  and  useless 
pieces  of  abstruse  knowledge.  Living  too  exclusively  in 
a  circle  where  he  is  idolised  both  for  his  genius  and  the 


26  JOUENAL.  [Nov. 

excellence  of  his  disposition,  he  has  acquired  strong  pre- 
judices, though  all  of  an  upright  and  honourable  cast.  He 
rides  his  High  Church  hobby  too  hard,  and  it  will  not  do  to 
run  a  tilt  upon  it  against  all  the  world.  Gifford  used  to 
crop  his  articles  considerably,  and  they  bear  mark  of  it,  being 
sometimes  dfaousues.  Southey  said  that  Gifford  cut  out  his 
middle  joints.  "When  John  comes  to  use  the  carving-knife 
I  fear  Dr.  Southey  will  not  be  so  tractable.  Nous  verrons. 
I  will  not  show  Southey's  letter  to  Lockhart,  for  there  is  to 
him  personally  no  friendly  tone,  and  it  would  startle  the 
Hidalgo's  pride.  It  is  to  be  wished  they  may  draw  kindly 
together.  Southey  says  most  truly  that  even  those  who  most 
undervalue  his  reputation  would,  were  he  to  withdraw  from 
the  Eeview,  exaggerate  the  loss  it  would  thereby  sustain.  The 
bottom  of  all  these  feuds,  though  not  named,  is  Blackwood's 
Magazine  ;  all  the  squibs  of  which,  which  have  sometimes  ex- 
ploded among  the  Lakers,  Lockhart  is  rendered  accountable 
for.  He  must  now  exert  himself  at  once  with  spirit  and 
prudence.1  He  has  good  backing — Canning,  Bishop  Blom- 
field,  Gifford,  Wright,  Croker,  Will  Eose, — and  is  there  not 
besides  the  Douglas  ? 2  An  excellent  plot,  excellent  friends, 
and  full  of  preparations?  It  was  no  plot  of  my  making, 


1  The  following  extract  from  a  Oriel.     But  mind  now,  Wilson,  I 

letter  to  Professor  Wilson,  urgently  am    sure    to    have    a    most    hard 

claiming   his  aid,   shows  that  the  struggle   to   get   up   a    very  good 

new  editor  had  lost  no  time  in  look-  first  Number,  and  if  I  do  not,  it 

ing  after  his  ' '  first  Number  "  : —  will  be  the  Devil."     This  letter  was 

"Mr.    Coleridge    has    yesterday  quoted  in  an  abridged  form  in  the 

transferred  to  me  the  treasures  of  Life  of  Professor  Wilson  by  Mrs. 

the  Quarterly  Review ;  and  I  must  Gordon, 
say,  my  dear  Wilson,  that  his  whole 

stock  is  not  worth   five  shillings.  2  This  probably  refers  to  Archi- 

Thank  God,  other  and  better  hands  bald,  Lord  Douglas,  who  had  married 

are  at  work  for  my  first  Number  or  the  Lady  Frances  Scott,  sister  of 

I  should  be  in  a  pretty  hobble.     My  Henry,  Duke  of  Buccleuch.     Lord 

belief  is  that  he  has  been  living  on  Douglas  died  on  the  26th  December 

the  stock  bequeathed  by  Gifford,  1827.     For  notices  of  these  valued 

and  the  contributions   of  a  set  of  friends  see  Life,  vol.  ii.  pp.   27-8  j 

H es  and  other  d — d  idiots  of  iv.  pp.  22,  70 ;  and  v.  p.  230. 


1825.]  JOURNAL.  27 

I  am  sure,  yet  men  will  say  and  believe  that  [it  was],  though 
I  never  heard  a  word  of  the  matter  till  first  a  hint  from 
Wright,  and  then  the  formal  proposal  of  Murray  to  Lockhart 
announced.  I  believe  Canning  and  Charles  Ellis  were  the 
prime  movers.  1 11  puzzle  my  brains  no  more  about  it. 

Dined  at  Justice-Clerk's  —  the  President  —  Captain 
Smollett,  etc.,  —  our  new  Commander-in-chief,  Hon.  Sir 
Eobert  O'Callaghan,  brother  to  Earl  of  Lismore,  a  fine 
soldierly-looking  man,  with  orders  and  badges; — his  brother, 
an  agreeable  man,  whom  I  met  at  Lowther  Castle  this 
season.  He  composes  his  own  music  and  sings  his  own 
poetry — has  much  humour,  enhanced  by  a  strong  touch  of 
national  dialect,  which  is  always  a  rich  sauce  to  an  Irish- 
man's good  things.  Dandyish,  but  not  offensively ;  and 
seems  to  have  a  warm  feeling  for  the  credit  of  his  country 
— rather  inconsistent  with  the  trifling  and  selfish  quietude 
of  a  mere  man  of  society. 

November  30. — I  am  come  to  the  time  when  those 
who  look  out  of  the  windows  shall  be  darkened.  I  must 
now  wear  spectacles  constantly  in  reading  and  writing, 
though  till  this  winter  I  have  made  a  shift  by  using  only 
their  occasional  assistance.  Although  my  health  cannot  be 
better,  I  feel  my  lameness  becomes  sometimes  painful,  and 
often  inconvenient.  Walking  on  the  pavement  or  causeway 
gives  me  trouble,  and  I  am  glad  when  I  have  accomplished 
my  return  on  foot  from  the  Parliament  House  to  Castle 
Street,  though  I  can  (taking  a  competent  time,  as  old  Braxie l 
said  on  another  occasion)  walk  five  or  six  miles  in  the 
country  with  pleasure.  Well — such  things  must  come,  and 
be  received  with  cheerful  submission.  My  early  lameness 
considered,  it  was  impossible  for  a  man  labouring  under  a 
bodily  impediment  to  have  been  stronger  or  more  active  than 
I  have  been,  and  that  for  twenty  or  thirty  years.  Seams 

1  Robert  Macqueen — Lord   Braxfield — Justice   Clerk  from  1788 ;    he 
died  in  1799. 


28  JOUKNAL.  [Nov. 

will  slit,  and  elbows  will  out,  quoth  the  tailor ;  and  as  I  was 
fifty-four  on  1 5th  August  last,  my  mortal  vestments  are  none 
of  the  newest.  Then  Walter,  Charles,  and  Lockhart  are  as 
active  and  handsome  young  fellows  as  you  can  see ;  and 
while  they  enjoy  strength  and  activity  I  can  hardly  be  said 
to  want  it.  I  have  perhaps  all  my  life  set  an  undue  value 
on  these  gifts.  Yet  it  does  appear  to  me  that  high  and  in- 
dependent feelings  are  naturally,  though  not  uniformly  or 
inseparably,  connected  with  bodily  advantages.  Strong  men 
are  usually  good-humoured,  and  active  men  often  display  the 
same  elasticity  of  mind  as  of  body.  These  are  superiorities, 
however,  that  are  often  misused.  But  even  for  these  things 
God  shall  call  us  to  judgment. 

Some  months  since  I  joined  with  other  literary  folks 
in  subscribing  a  petition  for  a  pension  to  Mrs.  G.  of 
L.,1  which  we  thought  was  a  tribute  merited  by  her  works 
as  an  authoress,  and,  in  my  opinion,  much  more  by  the 
firmness  and  elasticity  of  mind  with  which  she  had  borne  a 
succession  of  great  domestic  calamities.  Unhappily  there 
was  only  about  £100  open  on  the  pension  list,  and  this  the 
minister  assigned  in  equal  portions  to  Mrs.  G and  a  dis- 
tressed lady,  grand-daughter  of  a  forfeited  Scottish  nobleman. 

Mrs.  G ,  proud  as  a  Highland- woman,  vain  as  a  poetess, 

and  absurd  as  a  bluestocking,  has  taken  this  partition  in 
malam  partem,  and  written  to  Lord  Melville  about  her  merits, 
and  that  her  friends  do  not  consider  her  claims  as  being  fairly 
canvassed,  with  something  like  a  demand  that  her  petition 
be  submitted  to  the  King.  This  is  not  the  way  to  make  her 
plack  a  bawbee,  and  Lord  M.,  a  little  miffed  in  turn,  sends  the 

whole  correspondence  to  me  to  know  whether  Mrs.  G 

will  accept  the  £50  or  not.  Now,  hating  to  deal  with  ladies 
when  they  are  in  an  unreasonable  humour,  I  have  got  the 
good-humoured  "Man  of  Feeling"  to  find  out  the  lady's 

1  Mrs.  Grant  of  Laggan,  author      Superstitions    of  tlie    Higldanders, 
of    Letters   from    the    Mountains,      etc.    Died  at  Edin.  in  1838,  aged  83. 


1825.]  JOUENAL.  29 

mind,  and  I  take  on  myself  the  task  of  making  her  peace 
with  Lord  M.  There  is  no  great  doubt  how  it  will  end, 
for  your  scornful  dog  will  always  eat  your  dirty  pudding.1 
After  all,  the  poor  lady  is  greatly  to  be  pitied; — her  sole 
remaining  daughter,  deep  and  far  gone  in  a  decline,  has 
been  seized  with  alienation  of  mind. 

Dined  with  my  cousin,  E[obert]  R[utherford],  being  the 
first  invitation  since  my  uncle's  death,  and  our  cousin 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Eussell2  of  Ashestiel,  with  his  sister  Anne 
— the  former  newly  returned  from  India — a  fine  gallant 
fellow,  and  distinguished  as  a  cavalry  officer.  He  came 
overland  from  India  and  has  observed  a  good  deal.  General 

L of  L ,  in  Logan's  orthography  afmul,  Sir  William 

Hamilton,  Miss  Peggie  Swinton,  "William  Keith,  and  others. 
Knight  Marischal  not  well,  so  unable  to  attend  the  con- 
vocation of  kith  and  kin. 

1  Scott  had  not  the  smallest  hesi-  critique  on  Gait's  Omen.     See  this 

tation  in  applying  this  unsavoury  Journal,  June  23,  1826. 

proverb  to  himself  a  few  months  2  Afterwards    Major-General  Sir 

later,  when  he  unwillingly   "im-  James  Russell,  G.C.B.    He  died  at 

peticosed    the  gratillity "  for   the  Ashestiel  in  1859  in  his  78th  year. 


DECEMBEE. 

December  1st. — Colonel  E[ussell]  told  me  that  the  European 
Government  had  discovered  an  ingenious  mode  of  diminish- 
ing the  number  of  burnings  of  widows.  It  seems  the  Shaster 
positively  enjoins  that  the  pile  shall  be  so  constructed  that, 
if  the  victim  should  repent  even  at  the  moment  when  it  is 
set  on  fire,  she  may  still  have  the  means  of  saving  herself. 
The  Brahmins  soon  found  it  was  necessary  to  assist  the 
resolution  of  the  sufferers,  by  means  of  a  little  pit  into  which 
they  contrive  to  let  the  poor  widow  sink,  so  as  to  prevent 
her  reaping  any  benefit  from  a  late  repentance.  But  the 
Government  has  brought  them  back  to  the  regard  of  their 
law,  and  only  permit  the  burning  to  go  on  when  the  pile  is 
constructed  with  full  opportunity  of  a  locus  penitentice.  Yet 
the  widow  is  so  degraded  if  she  dare  to  survive,  that  the 
number  of  burnings  is  still  great.  The  quantity  of  female 
children  destroyed  by  the  Eajput  tribes  Colonel  E.  describes 
as  very  great  indeed.  They  are  strangled  by  the  mother. 
The  principle  is  the  aristocratic  pride  of  these  high  castes, 
who  breed  up  no  more  daughters  than  they  can  reasonably 
hope  to  find  matches  for  in  their  own  tribe.  Singular  how 
artificial  systems  of  feeling  can  be  made  to  overcome  that 
love  of  offspring  which  seems  instinctive  in  the  females,  not 
of  the  human  race  only,  but  of  the  lower  animals.  This  is 
the  reverse  of  our  system  of  increasing  game  by  shooting  the 
old  cock-birds.  It  is  a  system  would  aid  Malthus  rarely. 

Nota  lene,  the  day  before  yesterday  I  signed  the  bond  for 
£5000,  with  Constable,  for  relief  of  Eobinson's  house.1  I 
am  to  be  secured  by  good  bills. 

1  See  ante,  p.  13.    Mr.  James  Bal-     in  the  propriety  of  assisting  Rob- 
lantyne  and  Mr.  Cadell  concurred      inson. 
with  Mr.  Constable  and  Sir  Walter 
SO 


DEC.  1825.]  JOURNAL.  31 

I  think  this  journal  will  suit  me  well.  If  I  can  coax 
myself  into  an  idea  that  it  is  purely  voluntary,  it  may  go  on 
— Nulla  dies  sine  lined.  But  never  a  being,  from  my  infancy 
upwards,  hated  task- work  as  I  hate  it ;  and  yet  I  have  done 
a  great  deal  in  my  day.  It  is  not  that  I  am  idle  in  my 
nature  neither.  But  propose  to  me  to  do  one  thing,  and  it 
is  inconceivable  the  desire  I  have  to  do  something  else — not 
that  it  is  more  easy  or  more  pleasant,  but  just  because  it  is 
escaping  from  an  imposed  task.  I  cannot  trace  this  love  of 
contradiction  to  any  distinct  source,  but  it  has  haunted  me 
all  my  life.  I  could  almost  suppose  it  was  mechanical,  and 
that  the  imposition  of  a  piece  of  duty-labour  operated  on  me 
like  the  mace  of  a  bad  billiard-player,  which  gives  an  im- 
pulse to  the  ball  indeed,  but  sends  it  off  at  a  tangent 
different  from  the  course  designed  by  the  player.  Now,  if 
I  expend  such  eccentric  movements  on  this  journal,  it  will 
be  turning  this  wretched  propensity  to  some  tolerable 
account.  If  I  had  thus  employed  the  hours  and  half- 
hours  v  which  I  have  whiled  away  in  putting  off  something 
that  must  needs  be  done  at  last,  "  My  Conscience  ! "  I 
should  have  had  a  journal  with  a  witness.  Sophia  and 
Lockhart  came  to  Edinburgh  to-day  and  dined  with  us, 
meeting  Hector  Macdonald  Buchanan,  his  lady,  and  Missie, 
James  Skene  and  his  lady,  Lockhart's  friend  Cay,  etc. 
They  are  lucky  to  be  able  to  assemble  so  many  real 
friends,  whose  good  wishes,  I  am  sure,  will  follow  them  in 
their  new  undertaking. 

December  2. — Rather  a  blank  day  for  the  Gurnal. 
Correcting  proofs  in  the  morning.  Court  from  half-past 
ten  till  two ;  poor  dear  Colin  Mackenzie,  one  of  the  wisest, 
kindest,  and  best  men  of  his  time,  in  the  country, — I  fear 
with  very  indifferent  health.  From  two  till  three  transacting 
business  with  J.  B. ;  all  seems  to  go  smoothly.  Sophia  dined 
with  us  alone,  Lockhart  being  gone  to  the  west  to  bid  fare- 
well to  his  father  and  brothers.  Evening  spent  in  talking 


32  JOUKSTAL.  [DEC. 

with  Sophia  on  their  future  prospects.  God  bless  her,  poor 
girl !  she  never  gave  me  a  moment's  reason  to  complain  of 
her.  But,  0  my  God !  that  poor  delicate  child,  so  clever,  so 
animated,  yet  holding  by  this  earth  with  so  fearfully  slight  a 
tenure.  Never  out  of  his  mother's  thoughts,  almost  never 
out  of  his  father's  arms  when  he  has  but  a  single  moment  to 
give  to  anything.  Deus  providebit. 

December  3. — K.  P.  G.  *  came  to  call  last  night  to  excuse 
himself  from  dining  with  Lockhart's  friends  to-day.  I  really 
fear  he  is  near  an  actual  standstill.  He  has  been  extremely 
improvident.  When  I  first  knew  him  he  had  an  excellent 
estate,  and  now  he  is  deprived,  I  fear,  of  the  whole  reversion 
of  the  price,  and  this  from  no  vice  or  extreme,  except  a  waste- 
ful mode  of  buying  pictures  and  other  costly  trifles  at  high 
prices,  and  selling  them  again  for  nothing,  besides  an  extrava- 
gant housekeeping  and  profuse  hospitality.  An  excellent 
disposition,  with  a  considerable  fund  of  acquired  knowledge, 
would  have  rendered  him  an  agreeable  companion,  had  he  not 
affected  singularity,  and  rendered  himself  accordingly  singu- 
larly affected.  He  was  very  near  being  a  poet — but  a  miss  is 
as  good  as  a  mile,  and  he  always  fell  short  of  the  mark.  I 
knew  him  first,  many  years  ago,  when  he  was  desirous  of 
my  acquaintance ;  but  he  was  too  poetical  for  me,  or  I  was 
not  poetical  enough  for  him,  so  that  we  continued  only 
ordinary  acquaintance,  with  goodwill  on  either  side,  which 
R  P.  G.  really  deserves,  as  a  more  friendly,  generous  creature 
never  lived.  Lockhart  hopes  to  get  something  done  for  him, 
being  sincerely  attached  to  him,  but  says  he  has  no  hopes 

1  Robert  Pierce  Gillies,  once  pro-  earliest   but    most  persevering   of 

prietor  of  a  good  estate  in  Kincar-  my  friends — persevering  in  spite  of 

dineshire,  and  member  of  the  Scotch  my  waywardness." — Memoirs  of  a 

Bar.  It  is  pleasant  to  find  Mr.  Gillies  Literary  Veteran,  including  Sketches 

expressing  his  gratitude  for  what  and  Anecdotes  of  the  most  distin- 

Sir  Walter  had  done  for  him  more  guished  Literary  Characters  from 

than  twenty-five  years   after   this  1794  to  1849  (3  vols.,  London,  1851), 

paragraph  was  written.    "He  was,"  vol.  i.  p.  321.     Mr.  Gillies  died  in 

says  R.  P.  G.,  "  not  only  among  the  1861. 


1825.]  JOUENAL.  33 

till  he  is  utterly  ruined.  That  point,  I  fear,  is  not  far 
distant ;  but  what  Lockhart  can  do  for  him  then  I  cannot 
guess.  His  last  effort  failed,  owing  to  a  curious  reason. 
He  had  made  some  translations  from  the  German,  which 
he  does  extremely  [well] — for  give  him  ideas  and  he  never 
wants  choice  of  good  words — and  Lockhart  had  got  Constable 
to  offer  some  sort  of  terms  for  them.  E.  P.  G.  has  always, 
though  possessing  a  beautiful  power  of  handwriting,  had  some 
whim  or  other  about  imitating  that  of  some  other  person, 
and  has  written  for  months  in  the  imitation  of  one  or  other 
of  his  friends.  At  present  he  has  renounced  this  amuse- 
ment, and  chooses  to  write  with  a  brush  upon  large  cartridge 
paper,  somewhat  in  the  Chinese  fashion, — so  when  his  work, 
which  was  only  to  extend  to  one  or  two  volumes,  arrived 
on  the  shoulders  of  two  porters,  in  immense  bales,  our  jolly 
bibliopolist  backed  out  of  the  treaty,  and  would  have  nothing 
more  to  do  with  E.  P.1  He  is  a  creature  that  is,  or  would 
be  thought,  of  imagination  all  compact,  and  is  influenced  by 
strange  whims.  But  he  is  a  kind,  harmless,  friendly  soul, 
and  I  fear  has  been  cruelly  plundered  of  money,  which  he 
now  wants  sadly. 

Dined  with  Lockhart's  friends,  about  fifty  in  number, 
who  gave  him  a  parting  entertainment.  John  Hope, 
Solicitor-General,  in  the  chair,  and  Eobert  Dundas  [of 
Arniston],  croupier.  The  company  most  highly  respectable, 
and  any  man  might  be  proud  of  such  an  indication  of  the 
interest  they  take  in  his  progress  in  life.  Tory  principles 
rather  too  violently  upheld  by  some  speakers.  I  came  home 
about  ten ;  the  party  sat  late. 

December  4. — Lockhart  and  Sophia,  with  his  brother 
William,  dined  with  us,  and  talked  over  our  separation,  and 

1  Mr.  Gillies  was,  however,  warm-  book  in  1825  under  the  title  of  The 

ly  welcomed  by  another  publisher  Magic  Ring,  3  vols.   Its  failure  with 

in  Edinburgh,  who  paid  him  £100  the  public  prevented  a   repetition 

for  his  bulky  MSS.,  and  issued  the  of  the  experiment ! 

C 


34:  JOURNAL.  [DEC. 

the  mode  of  their  settling  in  London,  and  other  family 
topics. 

December  5. — This  morning  Lockhart  and  Sophia  left 
us  early,  and  without  leave-taking;  when  I  rose  at  eight 
o'clock  they  were  gone.  This  was  very  right.  I  hate  red 
eyes  and  blowing  of  noses.  Agere  et  pati  Romanum  est. 
Of  all  schools  commend  me  to  the  Stoics.  We  cannot 
indeed  overcome  our  affections,  nor  ought  we  if  we  could, 
but  we  may  repress  them  within  due  bounds,  and  avoid 
coaxing  them  to  make  fools  of  those  who  should  be  their 
masters.  I  have  lost  some  of  the  comforts  to  which  I 
chiefly  looked  for  enjoyment.  Well,  I  must  make  the  more 
of  such  as  remain — God  bless  them.  And  so  "  I  will  unto 
my  holy  work  again," l  which  at  present  is  the  description 
of  that  heilige  Kleeblatt,  that  worshipful  triumvirate,  Danton, 
Eobespierre,  and  Marat. 

I  cannot  conceive  what  possesses  me,  over  every  person 
besides,  to  mislay  papers.  I  received  a  letter  Saturday  at 
e'en,  enclosing  a  bill  for  £750 ;  no  deaf  nuts.  Well,  I  read 
it,  and  note  the  contents ;  and  this  day,  as  if  it  had  been  a 
wind-bill  in  the  literal  sense  of  the  words,  I  search  every- 
where, and  lose  three  hours  of  my  morning — turn  over  all 
my  confusion  in  the  writing-desk — break  open  one  or  two 
letters,  lest  I  should  have  enclosed  the  sweet  and  quickly 
convertible  document  in  them, — send  for  a  joiner,  and  dis- 
organise my  scrutoire,  lest  it  should  have  fallen  aside  by 
mistake.  I  find  it  at  last — the  place  where  is  of  little 
consequence ;  but  this  trick  must  be  amended. 

Dined  at  the  Eoyal  Society  Club,  where,'  as  usual,  was 
a  pleasant  meeting  of  from  twenty  to  twenty-five.  It  is  a 
very  good  institution;  we  pay  two  guineas  only  for  six 
dinners  in  the  year,  present  or  absent.  Dine  at  five,  or 
rather  half-past  five,  at  the  Royal  Hotel,  where  we  have  an 
excellent  dinner,  with  soups,  fish,  etc.,  and  all  in  good  order; 

1  Kiny  Richard  III.,  Act  in.  Sc.  7. — J.  G.  L. 


1825.]  JOURNAL.  35 

port  and  sherry  till  half-past  seven,  then  coffee,  and  we  go 
to  the  Society.  This  has  great  influence  in  keeping  up  the 
attendance,  it  being  found  that  this  preface  of  a  good  dinner, 
to  be  paid  for  whether  you  partake  or  not,  brings  out  many 
a  philosopher  who  might  not  otherwise  have  attended  the 
Society.  Harry  Mackenzie,  now  in  his  eighty-second  or 
third  year,  read  part  of  an  Essay  on  Dreams.  Supped  at 
Dr.  Russell's  usual  party,1  which  shall  serve  for  one  while. 

December  6. — A  rare  thing  this  literature,  or  love  of  fame 
or  notoriety  which  accompanies  it.  Here  is  Mr.  H[enry] 
Mackenzie]  on  the  very  brink  of  human  dissolution,  as 
actively  anxious  about  it  as  if  the  curtain  must  not  soon 
be  closed  on  that  and  everything  else.2  He  calls  me  his 
literary  confessor ;  and  I  am  sure  I  am  glad  to  return  the 
kindnesses  which  he  showed  me  long  since  in  George  Square. 
No  man  is  less  known  from  his  writings.  We  would  sup- 
pose a  retired,  modest,  somewhat  affected  man,  with  a  white 
handkerchief,  and  a  sigh  ready  for  every  sentiment.  No 
such  thing :  H.  M.  is  alert  as  a  contracting  tailor's  needle 
in  every  sort  of  business — a  politician  and  a  sportsman — 
shoots  and  fishes  in  a  sort  even  to  this  day — and  is  the  life 
of  the  company  with  anecdote  and  fun.  Sometimes,  his 
daughter  tells  me,  he  is  in  low  spirits  at  home,  but  really 
I  never  see  anything  of  it  in  society. 

There  is  a  maxim  almost  universal  in  Scotland,  which  I 
should  like  much  to  see  controlled.  Every  youth,  of  every 
temper  and  almost  every  description  of  character,  is  sent 

1  Of  the  many  Edinburgh  suppers  mentioned    in    the    Journal.      Dr. 
of  this  period,  commemorated  by  Russell  died  in  1836. 
Lord  Cockburn,  not  the  least  plea- 
sant were  the  friendly  gatherings  -  Mr.  Mackenzie  had  been  con- 
in  30  Abercromby  Place,  the  town  suiting  Sir  Walter  about  collecting 
house  of  Dr.  James  Russell,  Pro-  his  own  juvenile  poetry. — j.  o.  L. 
fessor  of  Clinical  Surgery.     They  Though  the  venerable  author  of  The 
were  given  fortnightly  after    the  M an  of  Feeling  did  not  die  till  1831, 
meetings  of  the  Royal  Society  dur-  he  does  not  appear  to  have  carried 
ing  the  Session,  and  are  occasionally  out  his  intention. 


36  JOURNAL.  [DEC. 

either  to  study  for  the  bar,  or  to  a  writer's  office  as  an 
apprentice.  The  Scottish  seem  to  conceive  Themis  the 
most  powerful  of  goddesses.  Is  a  lad  stupid,  the  law  will 
sharpen  him ; — is  he  too  mercurial,  the  law  will  make  him 
sedate ; — has  he  an  estate,  he  may  get  a  sheriffdom ; — is  he 
poor,  the  richest  lawyers  have  emerged  from  poverty ; — is 
he  a  Tory,  he  may  become  a  depute-advocate ; — is  he  a 
Whig,  he  may  with  far  better  hope  expect  to  become,  in 

reputation  at  least,  that  rising  counsel  Mr. ,  when  in 

fact  he  only  rises  at  tavern  dinners.  Upon  some  such  wild 
views  lawyers  and  writers  multiply  till  there  is  no  life  for 
them,  and  men  give  up  the  chase,  hopeless  and  exhausted, 
and  go  into  the  army  at  five-and-twenty,  instead  of  eighteen, 
with  a  turn  for  expense  perhaps — almost  certainly  for  pro- 
fligacy, and  with  a  heart  embittered  against  the  loving 
parents  or  friends  who  compelled  them  to  lose  six  or  seven 
years  in  dusting  the  rails  of  the  stair  with  their  black  gowns, 
or  scribbling  nonsense  for  twopence  a  page  all  day,  and 
laying  out  twice  their  earnings  at  night  in  whisky-punch. 
Here  is  R.  L.  now.  Four  or  five  years  ago,  from  certain 
indications,  I  assured  his  friends  he  would  never  be  a  writer. 
Good-natured  lad,  too,  when  Bacchus  is  out  of  the  question ; 
but  at  other  times  so  pugnacious,  that  it  was  wished  he 
could  only  be  properly  placed  where  fighting  was  to  be  a 
part  of  his  duty,  regulated  by  time  and  place,  and  paid  for 
accordingly.  Well,  time,  money,  and  instruction  have  been 
thrown  away,  and  now,  after  fighting  two  regular  boxing 
matches  and  a  duel  with  pistols  in  the  course  of  one  week,  he 
tells  them  roundly  he  will  be  no  writer,  which  common-sense 
might  have  told  them  before.  He  has  now  perhaps  acquired 
habits  of  insubordination,  unfitting  him  for  the  army,  where 
he  might  have  been  tamed  at  an  earlier  period.  He  is  too 
old  for  the  navy,  and  so  he  must  go  to  India,  a  guinea-pig 
on  board  a  Chinaman,  with  what  hope  or  view  it  is  melan- 
choly to  guess.  His  elder  brother  did  all  man  could  to  get 


1825.]  JOUKNAL.  37 

his  friends  to  consent  to  his  going  into  the  army  in  time. 
The  lad  has  good-humour,  courage,  and  most  gentlemanlike 
feelings,  but  he  is  incurably  dissipated,  I  hear ;  so  goes  to  die 
in  youth  in  a  foreign  land.  Thank  God,  I  let  Walter  take 
his  own  way ;  and  I  trust  he  will  be  a  useful,  honoured 
soldier,  being,  for  his  time,  high  in  the  service ;  whereas 
at  home  he  would  probably  have  been  a  wine-bibbing, 
moorf  owl -shooting,  fox-hunting  Fife  squire — living  at 
Lochore  without  either  aim  or  end — and  tvell  if  he  were 
no  worse.  Dined  at  home  with  Lady  S.  and  Anne.  Wrote 
in  the  evening. 

December  7. — Teind  day ; l — at  home  of  course.  Wrote 
answers  to  one  or  two  letters  which  have  been  lying  on  my 
desk  like  snakes,  hissing  at  me  for  my  dilatoriness.  Bespoke 
a  tun  of  palm-oil  for  Sir  John  Forbes.  Eeceived  a  letter 
from  Sir  W.  Knighton,  mentioning  that  the  King  acquiesced 
in  my  proposal  that  Constable's  Miscellany  should  be 
dedicated  to  him.  Enjoined,  however,  not  to  make  this 
public,  till  the  draft  of  dedication  shall  be  approved.  This 
letter  tarried  so  long,  I  thought  some  one  had  insinuated 
the  proposal  was  infra  dig.  I  don't  think  so.  The  purpose 
is  to  bring  all  the  standard  works,  both  in  sciences  and  the 
liberal  arts,  within  the  reach  of  the  lower  classes,  and  en- 
able them  thus  to  use  with  advantage  the  education  which 
is  given  them  at  every  hand.  To  make  boys  learn  to  read, 
and  then  place  no  good  books  within  their  ^each,  is  to  give 
men  an  appetite,  and  leave  nothing  in  the  pantry  save  un- 
wholesome and  poisonous  food,  which,  depend  upon  it,  they 
will  eat  rather  than  starve.  Sir  William,  it  seems,  has  been 
in  Germany. 

1  Every     alternate     Wednesday  Church  of  Scotland.     As  the  Teind 

during    the   Winter  and    Summer  Court    has    a    separate    establish- 

sessions,   the  Lords  Commissioners  ment   of    clerks    and  officers,    Sir 

of  Teinds  (Tithes),  consisting  of  a  Walter  was  freed  from  duty  at  the 

certain  number  of  the  judges,  held  a  Parliament   House  on  these  days. 

"  Teind  Court " — for  hearing  cases  The  Court  now  sits  on  alternate 

relating  to  the  secular  affairs  of  the  Mondays  only. 


38  JOURNAL.  [DEC. 

Mighty  dark  this  morning  ;  it  is  past  ten,  and  I  am  using 
ray  lamp.  The  vast  number  of  houses  built  beneath  us  to 
the  north  certainly  render  our  street  darker  during  the  days 
when  frost  or  haze  prevents  the  smoke  from  rising.  After 
all,  it  may  be  my  older  eyes.  I  remember  two  years  ago, 
when  Lord  H.  began  to  fail  somewhat  in  his  limbs,  he 
observed  that  Lord  S.1  came  to  Court  at  a  more  early  hour 
than  usual,  whereas  it  was  he  himself  who  took  longer  time 
to  walk  the  usual  distance  betwixt  his  house  and  the  Parlia- 
ment Square.  I  suspect  old  gentlemen  often  make  such 
mistakes.  A  letter  from  Southey  in  a  very  pleasant  strain 
as  to  Lockhart  and  myself.  Of  Murray  he  has  perhaps 
ground  to  complain  as  well  for  consulting  him  late  in  the 
business,  as  for  the  manner  in  which  he  intimated  to  young 
Coleridge,  who  had  no  reason  to  think  himself  handsomely 
treated,  though  he  has  acquiesced  in  the  arrangement  in  a 
very  gentlemanlike  tone.  With  these  matters  we,  of  course, 
have  nothing  to  do ;  having  no  doubt  that  the  situation  was 
vacant  when  M.  offered  it  as  such.  Southey  says,  in  altera- 
tion of  Byron's  phrase,  that  M.  is  the  most  timorous,  not  of 
God's,  but  of  the  devil's,  booksellers.  The  truth  I  take  to  be 
that  Murray  was  pushed  in  the  change  of  Editor  (which  was 
.really  become  necessary)  probably  by  Gifford,  Canning,  Ellis, 
etc. ;  and  when  he  had  fixed  with  Lockhart  by  their  advice 
his  constitutional  nervousness  made  him  delay  entering 
upon  a  full  explanation  with  Coleridge.  But  it  is  all  settled 
now — I  hope  Lockhart  will  be  able  to  mitigate  their  High 
Church  bigotry.  It  is  not  for  the  present  day,  savouring  too 
much  of  jure  divino. 

Dined  quiet  with  Lady  S.  and  Anne.  Anne  is  practising 
Scots  songs,  which  I  take  as  a  kind  compliment  to  my  own 
taste,  as  hers  leads  her  chiefly  to  foreign  music.  I  think 
the  good  girl  sees  that  I  want  and  must  miss  her  sister's 

1  Mr.   Lockhart    suggests  Lords      living  at  124  George  Street,   and 
Hi' rm ami  and  Succoth,  the  former      the  latter  at  1  Park  Place. 


1825.]  JOUKNAL.  39 

peculiar  talent  in  singing  the  airs  of  our  native  country, 
which,  imperfect  as  my  musical  ear  is,  make,  and  always 
have  made,  the  most  pleasing  impression  on  me.  And  so  if 
she  puts  a  constraint  on  herself  for  my  sake,  I  can  only  say, 
in  requital,  God  bless  her. 

I  have  much  to  comfort  me  in  the  present  aspect  of  my 
family.  My  eldest  son,  independent  in  fortune,  united  to 
an  affectionate  wife — and  of  good  hopes  in  his  profession; 
my  second,  with  a  good  deal  of  talent,  and  in  the  way,  I 
trust,  of  cultivating  it  to  good  purpose;  Anne,  an  honest, 
downright,  good  Scots  lass,  in  whom  I  would  only  wish  to 
correct  a  spirit  of  satire ;  and  Lockhart  is  Lockhart,  to  whom 
I  can  most  willingly  confide  the  happiness  of  the  daughter 
who  chose  him,  and  whom  he  has  chosen.  My  dear  wife, 
the  partner  of  early  cares  and  successes,  is,  I  fear,  frail  in 
health — though  I  trust  and  pray  she  may  see  me  out. 
Indeed,  if  this  troublesome  complaint  goes  on — it  bodes  no 
long  existence.  My  brother  was  affected  with  the  same 
weakness,  which,  before  he  was  fifty,  brought  on  mortal 
symptoms.  The  poor  Major  had  been  rather  a  free  liver. 
But  my  father,  the  most  abstemious  of  men,  save  when  the 
duties  of  hospitality  required  him  to  be  very  moderately 
free  with  his  bottle,  and  that  was  very  seldom,  had  the 
same  weakness  which  now  annoys  me,  and  he,  I  think, 
was  not  above  seventy  when  cut  off.  Square  the  odds, 
and  good-night  Sir  Walter  about  sixty.  I  care  not,  if  I 
leave  my  name  unstained,  and  my  family  properly  settled. 
Sat  est  vixisse. 

December  8. — Talking  of  the  vixisse,  it  may  not  be  im- 
pertinent to  notice  that  Knox,  a  young  poet  of  considerable 
talent,  died  here  a  week  or  two  since.  His  father  was  a 
respectable  yeoman,  and  he  himself,  succeeding  to  good 
farms  under  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch,  became  too  soon  his 
own  master,  and  plunged  into  dissipation  and  ruin.  His 
poetical  talent,  a  very  fine  one,  then  showed  itself  in  a  fine 


40  JOURNAL.  [DEC. 

strain  ot  pensive  poetry,  called,  I  think,  The  Lonely  Hearth, 
far  superior  to  those  of  Michael  Bruce,  whose  consumption, 
by  the  way,  has  been  the  life  of  his  verses.  But  poetry,  nay, 
good  poetry,  is  a  drug  in  the  present  day.  I  am  a  wretched 
patron.  I  cannot  go  with  a  subscription-paper,  like  a  pocket- 
pistol  about  me,  and  draw  unawares  on  some  honest  country- 
gentleman,  who  has  as  much  alarm  as  if  I  had  used  the 
phrase  "  stand  and  deliver,"  and  parts  with  his  money  with 
a  grimace,  indicating  some  suspicion  that  the  crown-piece 
thus  levied  goes  ultimately  into  the  collector's  own  pocket. 
This  I  see  daily  done ;  and  I  have  seen  such  collectors,  when 
they  have  exhausted  Papa  and  Mamma,  continue  their  trade 
among  the  misses,  and  conjure  out  of  their  pockets  those 
little  funds  which  should  carry  them  to  a  play  or  an 
assembly.  It  is  well  people  will  go  through  this — it  does 
some  good,  I  suppose,  and  they  have  great  merit  who  can 
sacrifice  their  pride  so  far  as  to  attempt  it  in  this  way.  For 
my  part  I  am  a  bad  promoter  of  subscriptions  ;  but  I  wished 
to  do  what  I  could  for  this  lad,  whose  talent  I  really  admired; 
and  I  am  not  addicted  to  admire  heaven-born  poets,  or 
poetry  that  is  reckoned  very  good  considering.  I  had  him, 
Knox,1  at  Abbotsford,  about  ten  years  ago,  but  found  him 
unfit  for  that  sort  of  society.  I  tried  to  help  him,  but  there 
were  temptations  he  could  never  resist.  He  scrambled  on, 
writing  for  the  booksellers  and  magazines,  and  living  like  the 
Otways,  and  Savages,  and  Chattertons  of  former  days,  though 
I  do  not  know  that  he  was  in  actual  want.  His  connection 
with  me  terminated  in  begging  a  subscription  or  a  guinea  now 
and  then.  His  last  works  were  spiritual  hymns,  and  which 
he  wrote  very  well.  In  his  own  line  of  society  he  was  said 
to  exhibit  infinite  humour ;  but  all  his  works  are  grave  and 

1  William  Knox  died  12th  Nov-  His     publisher     (Mr.      Anderson, 

ember.     He  had  published  Songs  of  junior,   of    Edinburgh)   remembers 

luraeC,    1824,   A    Visit  to    Dublin,  that  Sir  Walter  occasionally  wrote 

1824,    The   Harp   of  Zion,    1825,  to  Knox  and  sent  him  money— £10 

etc.,   besides    The   Lonely  Hearth,  at  a  time. — J.  o.  L. 


1825.]  JOURNAL.  41 

pensive,  a  style  perhaps,  like  Master  Stephen's  melancholy,1 
affected  for  the  nonce. 

Mrs.  G[rant]  of  L.  intimates  that  she  will  take  her  pudding 
— her  pension,  I  mean  (see  30th  November),  and  is  contrite, 
as  H[enry]  M[ackenzie]  vouches.  I  am  glad  the  stout 
old  girl  is  not  foreclosed ;  faith,  cabbing  a  pension  in  these 
times  is  like  hunting  a  pig  with  a  soap'd  tail,  monstrous 
apt  to  slip  through  your  fingers.2  Dined  at  home  with 
Lady  S.  and  Anne. 

December  9. — Yesterday  I  read  and  wrote  the  whole  day 
and  evening.  To-day  I  shall  not  be  so  happy.  Having 
Gas-Light  Company  to  attend  at  two,  I  must  be  brief  in 
journalising. 

The  gay  world  has  been  kept  in  hot  water  lately  by 
the  impudent  publication  of  the  celebrated  Harriet  Wilson, 

from  earliest  possibility,  I  suppose,  who  lived  with  half 

the  gay  world  at  hack  and  manger,  and  now  obliges 
such  as  will  not  pay  hush-money  with  a  history  of  what- 
ever she  knows  or  can  invent  about  them.  She  must  have 
been  assisted  in  the  style,  spelling,  and  diction,  though 
the  attempt  at  wit  is  very  poor,  that  at  pathos  sickening. 
But  there  is  some  good  retailing  of  conversations,  in  which 
the  style  of  the  speakers,  so  far  as  known  to  me,  is  exactly 
imitated,  and  some  things  told,  as  said  by  individuals  of 
each  other,  which  will  sound  unpleasantly  in  each  other's 

ears.  I  admire  the  address  of  Lord  A y,  himself  very 

severely  handled  from  time  to  time.  Some  one  asked  him  if 
H.  W.  had  been  pretty  correct  on  the  whole.  "  Why,  faith," 
he  replied,  "  I  believe  so  " — when,  raising  his  eyes,  he  saw 
Quentin  Dick,  whom  the  little  jilt  had  treated  atrociously — 
"  what  concerns  the  present  company  always  excepted,  you 

1  In  Ben  Jonson's  Every  Man  in  ment,  as  at  this  juncture  a  handsome 
his  Humour.  legacy  came  to  her  from  an  unex- 

2  Providence  was  kinder  to  the  pected  quarter.   Memoir  and  Corre- 
venerable  lady  than  the   Govern-  spondence,  Lond.  1845,  vol.  iii.  p.  71. 


42  JOUKNAL.  [DEC. 

know,"  added  Lord  A y,  with  infinite  presence  of  mind. 

As  he  was  in  pari  casu  with  Q.  D.  no  more  could  be  said. 
After  all,  H.  W.  beats  Con  Philips,  Anne  Bellamy,  and  all 
former  demireps  out  and  out.  I  think  I  supped  once  in  her 
company,  more  than  twenty  years  since,  at  Mat  Lewis's  in 
Argyle  Street,  where  the  company,  as  the  Duke  says  to  Lucio, 
chanced  to  be  "  fairer  than  honest."1  She  was  far  from  beauti- 
ful, if  it  be  the  same  chiffonne,  but  a  smart  saucy  girl,  with 
good  eyes  and  dark  hair,  and  the  manners  of  a  wild  schoolboy. 
I  am  glad  this  accidental  meeting  has  escaped  her  memory 
— or,  perhaps,  is  not  accurately  recorded  in  mine — for,  being 
a  sort  of  French  falconer,  who  hawk  at  all  they  see,  I  might 
have  had  a  distinction  which  I  am  far  from  desiring. 

Dined  at  Sir  John  Hay's — a  large  party ;  Skenes  there, 
the  Newenhams  and  others,  strangers.  In  the  morning  a 
meeting  of  Oil  Gas  Committee.  The  concern  lingers  a  little ; 

"  It  may  do  weel,  for  ought  it 's  done  yet, 
But  only — it 's  no  just  begun  yet."  2 

December  10. — A  stormy  and  rainy  day.  Walked  from 
the  Court  through  the  rain.  I  don't  dislike  this.  Egad,  I 
rather  like  it ;  for  no  man  that  ever  stepped  on  heather 
has  less  dread  than  I  of  catch-cold;  and  I  seem  to  re- 
gain, in  buffeting  with  the  wind,  a  little  of  the  high  spirit 
with  which,  in  younger  days,  I  used  to  enjoy  a  Tam-o'- 
Shanter  ride  through  darkness,  wind,  and  rain, — the  boughs 
groaning  and  cracking  over  my  head,  the  good  horse  free  to 
the  road  and  impatient  for  home,  and  feeling  the  weather 
as  little  as  I  did. 

"  The  storm  around  might  roar  and  rustle, 
We  didna  mind  the  storm  a  whistle." 

Answered  two  letters — one,  answer  to  a  schoolboy, 
who  writes  himself  Captain  of  Giggleswick  School  (a  most 
imposing  title),  entreating  the  youngster  not  to  commence 

1  Measure,  for  Measure,  Act  rv.          2  Burns's    Dedication    to    Gavin 
Sc.  3. — j.  a.  L.  Hamilton. — J.  G.  L. 


1825.]  JOURNAL.  43 

editor  of  a  magazine  to  be  entitled  the  "  Yorkshire  Muffin," 
I  think,  at  seventeen  years  old  ;  second,  to  a  soldier  of  the 
79th,  showing  why  I  cannot  oblige  him  by  getting  his  dis- 
charge, and  exhorting  him  rather  to  bear  with  the  wickedness 
and  profanity  of  the  service,  than  take  the  very  precarious 
step  of  desertion.  This  is  the  old  receipt  of  Durandarte — 
Patience,  cousin,  and  shuffle  the  cards ; l  and  I  suppose  the 
correspondents  will  think  I  have  been  too  busy  in  offering 
my  counsel  where  I  was  asked  for  assistance. 

A  third  rogue  writes  to  tell  me — rather  of  the  latest,  if 
the  matter  was  of  consequence — that  he  approves  of  the 
first  three  volumes  of  the  H[earf\  of  Midlothian,  but  totally 
condemns  the  fourth.  Doubtless  he  thinks  his  opinion 
worth  the  sevenpence  sterling  which  his  letter  costs.  How- 
ever, authors  should  be  reasonably  well  pleased  when  three- 
fourths  of  their  work  are  acceptable  to  the  reader.  The 
knave  demands  of  me  in  a  postscript,  to  get  back  the  sword 
of  Sir  Wfilliam]  Wallace  from  England,  where  it  was  carried 
from  Dumbarton  Castle.  I  am  not  Master-General  of  the 
Ordnance,  that  I  know.  It  was  wrong,  however,  to  take 
away  that  and  Mons  Meg.  If  I  go  to  town  this  spring, 
I  will  renew  my  negotiation  with  the  Great  Duke  for 
recovery  of  Mons  Meg. 

There  is  no  theme  more  awful  than  to  attempt  to  cast  a 
glance  among  the  clouds  and  mists  which  hide  the  broken 
extremity  of  the  celebrated  bridge  of  Mirza.2  Yet,  when 
every  day  brings  us  nearer  that  termination,  one  would 
almost  think  that  our  views  should  become  clearer,  as  the 
regions  we  are  approaching  are  brought  nigher.  Alas !  it  is 
not  so  :  there  is  a  curtain  to  be  withdrawn,  a  veil  to  be  rent, 
before  we  shall  see  things  as  they  really  are.  There  are  few, 
I  trust,  who  disbelieve  the  existence  of  a  God ;  nay,  I  doubt 
if  at  all  times,  and  in  all  moods,  any  single  individual  ever 
adopted  that  hideous  creed,  though  some  have  professed  it. 
1  Dan  Quixote,  Pt.  n.  ch.  23.  a  Spectator,  No.  159.— J.  G.  L. 


44  JOUKNAL.  [DEC. 

With  the  belief  of  a  Deity,  that  of  the  immortality  of  the 
soul  and  of  the  state  of  future  rewards  and  punishments  is 
indissolubly  linked.  More  we  are  not  to  know ;  but  neither 
are  we  prohibited  from  our  attempts,  however  vain,  to 
pierce  the  solemn  sacred  gloom.  The  expressions  used  in 
Scripture  are  doubtless  metaphorical,  for  penal  fires  and 
heavenly  melody  are  only  applicable  to  bodies  endowed 
with  senses ;  and,  at  least  till  the  period  of  the  resurrec- 
tion of  the  body,  the  spirits  of  men,  whether  entering 
into  the  perfection  of  the  just,  or  committed  to  the  regions 
of  punishment,  are  incorporeal.  Neither  is  it  to  be 
supposed  that  the  glorified  bodies  which  shall  arise  in  the 
last  day  will  be  capable  of  the  same  gross  indulgences  with 
which  they  are  now  solaced.  That  the  idea  of  Mahomet's 
paradise  is  inconsistent  with  the  purity  of  our  heavenly 
religion  will  be  readily  granted ;  and  see  Mark  xii.  25. 
Harmony  is  obviously  chosen  as  the  least  corporeal  of  all 
gratifications  of  the  sense,  and  as  the  type  of  love,  unity, 
and  a  state  of  peace  and  perfect  happiness.  But  they  have 
a  poor  idea  of  the  Deity,  and  the  rewards  which  are  destined 
for  the  just  made  perfect,  who  can  only  adopt  the  literal 
sense  of  an  eternal  concert — a  never-ending  Birthday  Ode.  I 
rather  suppose  there  should  be  understood  some  commission 
from  the  Highest,  some  duty  to  discharge  with  the  applause 
of  a  satisfied  conscience.  That  the  Deity,  who  himself  must 
be  supposed  to  feel  love  and  affection  for  the  beings  he  has 
called  into  existence,  should  delegate  a  portion  of  those 
powers,  I  for  one  cannot  conceive  altogether  so  wrong  a  con- 
jecture. We  would  then  find  reality  in  Milton's  sublime 
machinery  of  the  guardian  saints  or  genii  of  kingdoms. 
Nay,  we  would  approach  to  the  Catholic  idea  of  the  employ- 
ment of  saints,  though  without  approaching  the  absurdity 
of  saint-worship,  which  degrades  their  religion.  There  would 
be,  we  must  suppose,  in  these  employments  difficulties  to  be 
overcome,  and  exertions  to  be  made,  for  all  which  the  celes- 


1825.]  JOUKNAL.  45 

tial  beings  employed  would  have  certain  appropriate  powers. 
I  cannot  help  thinking  that  a  life  of  active  benevolence  is 
more  consistent  with  my  ideas  than  an  eternity  of  music. 
But  it  is  all  speculation,  and  it  is  impossible  even  to  guess 
what  we  shall  [do],  unless  we  could  ascertain  the  equally 
difficult  previous  question,  what  we  are  to  be.  But  there 
is  a  God,  and  a  just  God — a  judgment  and  a  future  life — 
and  all  who  own  so  much  let  them  act  according  to  the  faith 
that  is  in  them.  I  would  [not],  of  course,  limit  the  range 
of  my  genii  to  this  confined  earth.  There  is  the  universe, 
with  all  its  endless  extent  of  worlds. 

Company  at  home — Sir  Adam  Ferguson  and  his  Lady ; 
Colonel  and  Miss  Eussell ;  Count  Davidoff,  and  Mr.  Collyer. 
By  the  by,  I  observe  that  all  men  whose  names  are  obviously 
derived  from  some  mechanical  trade,  endeavour  to  dis- 
guise and  antiquate,  as  it  were,  their  names,  by  spelling 
them  after  some  quaint  manner  or  other.  Thus  we  have 
Collyer,  Smythe,  Tailleure  ;  as  much  as  to  say,  My  ancestor 
was  indeed  a  mechanic,  but  it  was  a  world  of  time  ago, 
when  the  word  was  spelled  very  [differently].  Then  we  had 
young  Whytbank  and  Will  Allan  the  artist,1  a  very  agree- 
able, simple-mannered,  and  pleasant  man. 

December  11. — A  touch  of  the  iniorbus  eruditorum,  to 
which  I  am  as  little  subject  as  most  folks,  and  have  it  less 
now  than  when  young.  It  is  a  tremor  of  the  heart,  the 
pulsation  of  which  becomes  painfully  sensible — a  disposition 
to  causeless  alarm — much  lassitude — and  decay  of  vigour  of 
mind  and  activity  of  intellect.  The  reins  feel  weary  and 
painful,  and  the  mind  is  apt  to  receive  and  encourage 
gloomy  apprehensions  and  causeless  fears.  Fighting  with 
this  fiend  is  not  always  the  best  way  to  conquer  him.  I 
have  always  found  exercise  and  the  open  air  better  than 
reasoning.  But  such  weather  as  is  now  without  doors  does 

1  Sir  William  Allan,  President  of  the  Royal  Scottish  Academy  from 
1838  :  he  died  at  Edinburgh  in  1850. 


46  JOUKNAL.  [DEC. 

not  encourage  la  petite  guerre,  so  we  must  give  him  battle 
in  form,  by  letting  both  mind  and  body  know  that,  suppos- 
ing one  the  House  of  Commons  and  the  other  the  House  of 
Peers,  my  will  is  sovereign  over  both.  There  is  a  good  de- 
scription of  this  species  of  mental  weakness  in  the  fine  play 
of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher  called  The  Lover's  Progress,  where 
the  man,  warned  that  his  death  is  approaching,  works  himself 
into  an  agony  of  fear,  and  calls  for  assistance,  though  there 
is  no  apparent  danger.  The  apparition  of  the  innkeeper's 
ghost,  in  the  same  play,  hovers  between  the  ludicrous  and 
[the  terrible].  To  me  the  touches  of  the  former  quality 
which  it  contains  seem  to  augment  the  effect  of  the  latter 
— they  seem  to  give  reality  to  the  supernatural,  as  being 
circumstances  with  which  an  inventor  would  hardly  have 
garnished  his  story.1 

Will  Clerk  says  he  has  a  theory  on  the  vitrified  forts. 
I  wonder  if  he  and  I  agree.  I  think  accidental  conflagration 
is  the  cause. 

December  12. — Hogg  came  to  breakfast  this  morning, 
having  taken  and  brought  for  his  companion  the  Galashiels 
bard,  David  Thomson,2  as  to  a  meeting  of  "  huzz  Tividale 
poets."  The  honest  grunter  opines  with  a  delightful  na/ivete 
that  Moore's  verses  are  far  owre  sweet — answered  by  Thom- 
son that  Moore's  ear  or  notes,  I  forget  which,  were  finely 
strung.  "They  are  far  owre  finely  strung,"  replied  he  of 
the  Forest,  "for  mine  are  just  reeght."  It  reminded  me  of 
Queen  Bess,  when  questioning  Melville  sharply  and  closely 
whether  Queen  [Mary]  was  taller  than  her,  and,  extracting 
an  answer  in  the  affirmative,  she  replied,  "  Then  your  Queen 
is  too  tall,  for  I  am  just  the  proper  height." 

Was  engaged  the  whole  day  with  Sheriff  Court  pro- 
cesses. There  is  something  sickening  in  seeing  poor  devils 

1  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  8vo,  see  Life,  October  1822,  and  T.  Craig 

Lond.  1788,  vol.  v.  pp.  410-413,419-  Brovrn's  History  of  Selkirkshire, 

426.  2  vols.  4to,  Edin.  1886,  vol.  i. 

-  For  notices  of  David  Thomson,  pp.  505,  507,  and  519. 


1825.]  JOUKNAL.  47 

drawn  into  great  expense  about  trifles  by  interested  attor- 
neys. But  too  cheap  access  to  litigation  has  its  evils  on  the 
other  hand,  for  the  proneness  of  the  lower  class  to  gratify 
spite  and  revenge  in  this  way  would  be  a  dreadful  evil  were 
they  able  to  endure  the  expense.  Very  few  cases  come 
before  the  Sheriff-court  of  Selkirkshire  that  ought  to  come 
anywhere.  Wretched  wranglings  about  a  few  pounds,  begun 
in  spleen,  and  carried  on  from  obstinacy,  and  at  length 
from  fear  of  the  conclusion  to  the  banquet  of  ill-humour, 
"  D — n — n  of  expenses." l  I  try  to  check  it  as  well  as 
I  can;  "but  so  'twill  be  when  I  am  gone." 

December  12. — Dined  at  home,  and  spent  the  evening 
in  writing — Anne  and  Lady  Scott  at  the  theatre  to  see 
Mathews;  a  very  clever  man  my  friend  Mathews;  but 
it  is  tiresome  to  be  funny  for  a  whole  evening,  so  I  was 
content  and  stupid  at  home. 

An  odd  optical  delusion  has  amused  me  these  two  last 
nights.  I  have  been  of  late,  for  the  first  time,  condemned 
to  the  constant  use  of  spectacles.  Now,  when  I  hare  laid 
them  aside  to  step  into  a  room  dimly  lighted,  out  of  the 
strong  light  which  I  use  for  writing,  I  have  seen,  or 
seemed  to  see,  through  the  rims  of  the  same  spectacles 
which  I  have  left  behind  me.  At  first  the  impression  was 
so  lively  that  I  put  my  hand  to  my  eyes  believing  I  had 
the  actual  spectacles  on  at  the  moment.  But  what  I  saw 
was  only  the  eidolon  or  image  of  said  useful  servants.  This 
fortifies  some  of  Dr.  Hibbert's  positions  about  spectral  ap- 
pearances. 

December  13. — Letter  from  Lady  Stafford — kind  and 
friendly  after  the  wont  of  Banzu-Mohr-ar-chat.2  This  is 

1  Burns's  Address    to    the    Unco  in  the  English  name  of  the  neigh- 
Guid. — J.  o.  L.  bouring   one,   Caithness,   we    have 

2  Banamhorar-Chat,  i.e.  the  Great  another  trace  of  the  early  settle- 
Lady  of  the  Cat,  is  the  Gaelic  title  ment  of  the  Clan  Chattan,  whose 
of  the  Countess-Duchess  of  Suther-  chiefs  bear   the    cognisance    of    a 
land.     The  county  of  Sutherland  Wild  Cat.     The  Duchess-Countess 
itself  is  in  that  dialect  Cattey,  and  died  in  1838.— J.  G.  L. 


48  JOUKNAL.  [DEC. 

wrong  spelled,  I  know.  Her  countenance  is  something  for 
Sophia,  whose  company  should  be — as  ladies  are  said  to 
choose  their  liquor — little  and  good.  To  be  acquainted 
with  persons  of  mere  ton  is  a  nuisance  and  a  scrape — to  be 
known  to  persons  of  real  fashion  and  fortune  is  in  London 
a  very  great  advantage.  She  is  besides  sure  of  the  here- 
ditary and  constant  friendship  of  the  Buccleuch  ladies,  as 
well  as  those  of  Montagu  and  of  the  Harden  family,  of  the 
Marchioness  of  Northampton,  Lady  Melville,  and  others, 
also  the  Miss  Ardens,  upon  whose  kind  offices  I  have  some 
claim,  and  would  count  upon  them  whether  such  claim 
existed  or  no.  So  she  is  well  enough  established  among  the 
Eight-hand  file,  which  is  very  necessary  in  London  where 
second-rate  fashion  is  like  false  jewels. 

Went  to  the  yearly  court  of  the  Edinburgh  Assurance 
Company,  to  which  I  am  one  of  those  graceful  and  useless 
appendages, called  Directors  Extraordinary — an  extraordinary 
director  I  should  prove  had  they  elected  me  an  ordinary 
one.  There  were  there  moneyers  and  great  oneyers,1  men 
of  metal — discounters  and  counters — sharp,  grave,  prudential 
faces — eyes  weak  with  ciphering  by  lamplight — men  who 
say  to  gold,  Be  thou  paper,  and  to  paper,  Be  thou  turned  into 
fine  gold.  Many  a  bustling,  sharp-faced,  keen-eyed  writer 
too — some  perhaps  speculating  with  their  clients'  property. 
My  reverend  seigniors  had  expected  a  motion  for  printing 
their  contract,  which  I,  as  a  piece  of  light  artillery,  was 
brought  down  and  got  into  battery  to  oppose.  I  should 
certainly  have  done  this  on  the  general  ground,  that  while 
each  partner  could  at  any  time  obtain  sight  of  the  contract 
at  a  call  on  the  directors  or  managers,  it  would  be  absurd  to 
print  it  for  the  use  of  the  Company — and  that  exposing 
it  to  the  world  at  large  was  in  all  respects  unnecessary, 
and  might  teach  novel  companies  to  avail  themselves  of 
our  rules  and  calculations — if  false,  for  the  purpose  of 

1  See  1  King  Henry  1  V.,  Act  n.  Sc.  1. 


1825.]  JOUENAL.  49 

exposing  our  errors — if  correct,  for  the  purpose  of  improving 
their  own  schemes  on  our  model.  But  my  eloquence  was 
not  required,  no  one  renewing  the  motion  under  question ; 
so  off  I  came,  my  ears  still  ringing  with  the  sounds  of 
thousands  and  tens  of  thousands,  and  my  eyes  dazzled  with 
the  golden  gleam  offered  by  so  many  capitalists. 

Walked  home  with  the  Solicitor1 — decidedly  the  most 
hopeful  young  man  of  his  time;  high  connection,  great 
talent,  spirited  ambition,  a  ready  and  prompt  elocution, 
with  a  good  voice  and  dignified  manner,  prompt  and  steady 
courage,  vigilant  and  constant  assiduity,  popularity  with  the 
young  men,  and  the  good  opinion  of  the  old,  will,  if  I 
mistake  not,  carry  him  as  [high  as]  any  man  who  has  been 
since  the  days  of  old  Hal  Dundas.2  He  is  hot  though,  and 
rather  hasty:  this  should  be  amended.  They  who  would 
play  at  single-stick  must  bear  with  patience  a  rap  over  the 
knuckles.  Dined  quietly  with  Lady  Scott  and  Anne. 

December  14. — Affairs  very  bad  in  the  money-market 
in  London.  It  must  come  here,  and  I  have  far  too  many 
engagements  not  to  feel  it.  To  end  the  matter  at  once, 
I  intend  to  borrow  £10,000,  with  which  my  son's  marriage- 
contract  allows  me  to  charge  my  estate.  At  Whitsunday  and 
Martinmas  I  will  have  enough  to  pay  up  the  incumbrance 
of  £3000  due  to  old  Moss's  daughter,  and  £5000  to  Misses 
Ferguson,  in  whole  or  part.  This  will  enable  us  to  dispense 
in  a  great  measure  with  bank  assistance,  and  sleep  in  spite 
of  thunder.  I  do  not  know  whether  it  is  this  business  which 
makes  me  a  little  bilious,  or  rather  the  want  of  exercise 
during  the  season  of  late,  and  change  of  the  weather  to  too 
much  heat.  Thank  God,  my  circumstances  are  good, — upon 
a  fair  balance  which  I  have  made,  certainly  not  less  than 
£40,000  or  nearly  £50,000  above  the  world.  But  the  sun 

1  John  Hope,  Esq.,  was  at  this  2  Henry  Dundas,  the  first  Viscount 

time  Solicitor-General  for  Scotland,  Melville,  first  appeared  in  Parlia- 

afterwards  Lord  Justice-Clerk  from  ment  as   Lord  Advocate  of  Scot- 

1841  until  his  death  in  1858.  land. — jr.  G.  L. 


50  JOUKNAL.  [DEC. 

and  moon  shall  dance  on  the  green  ere  carelessness,  or  hope 
of  gain,  or  facility  of  getting  cash,  shall  make  me  go  too 
deep  again,  were  it  but  for  the  disquiet  of  the  thing.  Dined : 
Lady  Scott  and  Anne  quietly. 

December  15. — E.  P.  G[illies]  came  sicut  mos  est  at  five 
o'clock  to  make  me  confidant  of  the  extremities  of  his  distress. 
It  is  clear  all  he  has  to  do  is  to  make  the  best  agreement 
he  can  with  his  creditors.  I  remember  many  years  since  the 
poor  fellow  told  me  he  thought  there  was  something  interest- 
ing in  having  difficulties.  Poor  lad,  he  will  have  enough  of 
them  now.  He  talks  about  writing  translations  for  the 
booksellers  from  the  German  to  the  amount  of  five  or  six 
hundred  pounds,  but  this  is  like  a  man  proposing  to  run  a 
whole  day  at  top  speed.  Yet,  if  he  had  good  subjects,  E.  P.  G. 
is  one  of  the  best  translators  I  know,  and  something  must  be 
done  for  him  certainly,  though,  I  fear,  it  will  be  necessary  to 
go  to  the  bottom  of  the  ulcer ;  palliatives  won't  do.  He  is 
terribly  imprudent,  yet  a  worthy  and  benevolent  creature — 
a  great  bore  withal.  Dined  alone  with  family.  I  am 
determined  not  to  stand  mine  host  to  all  Scotland  and 
England  as  I  have  done.  This  shall  be  a  saving,  since 
it  must  be  a  borrowing,  year.  We  heard  from  Sophia ;  they 
are  got  safe  to  town ;  but  as  Johnnie  had  a  little  bag  of  meal 
with  him,  to  make  his  porridge  on  the  road,  the  whole  inn- 
yard  assembled  to  see  the  operation.  Junor,  his  maid,  was 
of  opinion  that  England  was  an  "awfu*  country  to  make 
parritch  in."  God  bless  the  poor  baby,  and  restore  his 
perfect  health ! 

December  16. — E.  P.  G.  and  his  friend  Eobert  Wilson1 
came — the  former  at  five,  as  usual — the  latter  at  three,  as 
appointed.  E[obert]  W[ilson]  frankly  said  that  E.  P.  G.'s 
case  was  quite  desperate,  that  he  was  insolvent,  and  that 
any  attempt  to  save  him  at  present  would  be  just  so  much 

1  Robert  Sym  Wilson,  Esq.,  W.S.,  Secretary  to  the  Royal  Bank  of  Scot- 
land.— J.o.  L. 


1825.]  JOUKNAL.  51 

cash  thrown  away.  God  knows,  at  this  moment  I  have 
none  to  throw  away  uselessly.  For  poor  Gillies  there  was 
a  melancholy  mixture  of  pathos  and  affectation  in  his  state- 
ment, which  really  affected  me;  while  it  told  me  that  it 
would  be  useless  to  help  him  to  money  on  such  very  empty 
plans.  I  endeavoured  to  persuade  him  to  make  a  virtue 
of  necessity,  resign  all  to  his  creditors,  and  begin  the  world 
on  a  new  leaf.  I  offered  him  Chiefswood  for  a  temporary 
retirement.  Lady  Scott  thinks  I  was  wrong,  and  nobody 
could  less  desire  such  a  neighbour,  all  his  affectations  being 
caviare  to  me.  But  then  the  wife  and  children !  Went 
again  to  the  Solicitor  on  a  wrong  night,  being  asked  for  to- 
morrow. Lady  Scott  undertakes  to  keep  my  engagements 
recorded  in  future.  Sed  quis  cmtodiet  ipsam  custodem  J 

December  17. — Dined  with  the  Solicitor — Lord  Chief- 
Baron1 — Sir  William  Boothby,  nephew  of  old  Sir  Brooke, 
the  dandy  poet,  etc.  Annoyed  with  anxious  presentiments, 
which  the  night's  post  must  dispel  or  confirm — all  in  London 
as  bad  as  possible. 

December  18. — Ballantyne  called  on  me  this  morning. 
Venit  ilia  suprema  dies.  My  extremity  is  come.  Cadell  has 
received  letters  from  London  which  all  but  positively  an- 
nounce the  failure  of  Hurst  and  Eobinson,  so  that  Constable 
&  Co.  must  follow,  and  I  must  go  with  poor  James  Ballan- 
tyne for  company.  I  suppose  it  will  involve  my  all.  But 
if  they  leave  me  £500,  I  can  still  make  it  £1000  or  £1200 
a  year.  And  if  they  take  my  salaries  of  £1300  and  £300, 
they  cannot  but  give  me  something  out  of  them.  I  have 
been  rash  in  anticipating  funds  to  buy  land,  but  then  I 
made  from  £5000  to  £10,000  a  year,  and  land  was  my 

1  The  Right  Hon.  Sir  Samuel  where  he  died,  aged  80,  on  the 
Shepherd,  who  had  been  at  the  30th  November  1840.  Before  corn- 
head  of  the  Court  of  Exchequer  ing  to  Scotland,  Sir  Samuel  had 
since  1819,  was  then  living  at  16  been  Solicitor-General  in  1814,  and 
Coates  Crescent ;  he  retired  in  1830,  Attorney-General  in  1817. 
and  resided  afterwards  in  England, 


52  JOUKNAL.  [DEC. 

temptation.  I  think  nobody  can  lose  a  penny — that  is  one 
comfort.  Men  will  think  pride  has  had  a  fall.  Let  them 
indulge  their  own  pride  in  thinking  that  my  fall  makes 
them  higher,  or  seems  so  at  least.  I  have  the  satisfaction 
to  recollect  that  my  prosperity  has  been  of  advantage  to 
many,  and  that  some  at  least  will  forgive  my  transient  wealth 
on  account  of  the  innocence  of  my  intentions,  and  my  real 
wish  to  do  good  to  the  poor.  This  news  will  make  sad 
hearts  at  Darnick,  and  in  the  cottages  of  Abbotsford,  which 
I  do  not  nourish  the  least  hope  of  preserving.  It  has  been 
my  Delilah,  and  so  I  have  often  termed  it ;  and  now  the 
recollection  of  the  extensive  woods  I  planted,  and  the  walks 
I  have  formed,  from  which  strangers  must  derive  both  the 
pleasure  and  profit,  will  excite  feelings  likely  to  sober  my 
gayest  moments.  I  have  half  resolved  never  to  see  the 
place  again.  How  could  I  tread  my  hall  with  such  a  dimin- 
ished crest  ?  How  live  a  poor  indebted  man  where  I  was 
once  the  wealthy,  the  honoured?  My  children  are  pro- 
vided ;  thank  God  for  that.  I  was  to  have  gone  there  on 
Saturday  in  joy  and  prosperity  to  receive  my  friends.  My 
dogs  will  wait  for  me  in  vain.  It  is  foolish — but  the 
thoughts  of  parting  from  these  dumb  creatures  have  moved 
me  more  than  any  of  the  painful  reflections  I  have  put 
down.  Poor  things,  I  must  get  them  kind  masters ;  there 
may  be  yet  those  who  loving  me  may  love  my  dog  because 
it  has  been  mine.  I  must  end  this,  or  I  shall  lose  the  tone 
of  mind  with  which  men  should  meet  distress. 


I  find  my  dogs'  feet  on  my  knees.  I  hear  them  whining 
and  seeking  me  everywhere — this  is  nonsense,  but  it  is  what 
they  would  do  could  they  know  how  things  are.  Poor 
Will  Laidlaw !  poor  Tom  Purdie !  this  will  be  news  to 
wring  your  heart,  and  many  a  poor  fellow's  besides  to  whom 
my  prosperity  was  daily  bread. 


1825.]  JOUENAL.  53 

Ballantyne  behaves  like  himself,  and  sinks  his  own  ruin 
in  contemplating  mine.  I  tried  to  enrich  him  indeed,  and 
now  all — all  is  gone.  He  will  have  the  "  Journal "  still,  that 
is  a  comfort,  for  sure  they  cannot  find  a  better  Editor.  They — 
alas !  who  will  they  be — the  unbeJcannten  Obern  who  are  to 
dispose  of  my  all  as  they  will  ?  Some  hard-eyed  banker ; 
some  of  those  men  of  millions  whom  I  described.  Cadell 
showed  more  kind  and  personal  feeling  to  me  than  I  thought 
he  had  possessed.  He  says  there  are  some  properties  of  works 
that  will  revert  to  me,  the  copy-money  not  being  paid,  but 
it  cannot  be  any  very  great  matter,  I  should  think. 

Another  person  did  not  afford  me  all  the  sympathy  I 
expected,  perhaps  because  I  seemed  to  need  little  support, 
yet  that  is  not  her  nature,  which  is  generous  and  kind.  She 
thinks  I  have  been  imprudent,  trusting  men  so  far.  Perhaps 
so — but  what  could  I  do  ?  I  must  sell  my  books  to  some  one, 
and  these  folks  gave  me  the  largest  price ;  if  they  had  kept 
their  ground  I  could  have  brought  myself  round  fast  enough 
by  the  plan  of  14th  December.  I  now  view  matters  at  the 
very  worst,  and  suppose  that  my  all  must  go  to  supply  the 
deficiencies  of  Constable.  I  fear  it  must  be  so.  His  connec- 
tions with  Hurst  and  Eobinson  have  been  so  intimate  that 
they  must  be  largely  involved.  This  is  the  worst  of  the 
concern ;  our  own  is  comparatively  plain  sailing. 

Poor  Gillies  called  yesterday  to  tell  me  he  was  in 
extremity.  God  knows  I  had  every  cause  to  have  returned 
him  the  same  answer.  I  must  think  his  situation  worse  than 
mine,  as  through  his  incoherent,  miserable  tale,  I  could  see 
that  he  had  exhausted  each  access  to  credit,  and  yet  fondly 
imagines  that,  bereft  of  all  his  accustomed  indulgences,  he 
can  work  with  a  literary  zeal  unknown  to  his  happier  days. 
I  hope  he  may  labour  enough  to  gain  the  mere  support  of 
his  family.  For  myself,  the  magic  wand  of  the  Unknown  is 
shivered  in  his  grasp.  He  must  henceforth  be  termed  the 
Too-well-known.  The  feast  of  fancy  is  over  with  the  feeling 


54  JOUENAL.  [DEC. 

of  independence.  I  can  no  longer  have  the  delight  of  wak- 
ing in  the  morning  with  bright  ideas  in  my  mind,  haste  to 
commit  them  to  paper,  and  count  them  monthly,  as  the 
means  of  planting  such  groves,  and  purchasing  such  wastes  ; 
replacing  my  dreams  of  fiction  by  other  prospective  visions 

of  walks  by 

"  Fountain  heads,  and  pathless  groves 
Places  which  pale  passion  loves."  l 

This  cannot  be;  but  I  may  work  substantial  husbandry, 
work  history,  and  such  concerns.  They 

J  J        Footnote  to  page  44 

will  not  be  received  with  the  same  en-  in  the  original  MS.  :— 


thusiasm;   at    least  I  much   doubt   the  1"™*  pag° 

41  and  42.     I  turned 

general  knowledge  that  an  author  must  the  page  accidentally, 
write  for  his  bread,  at  least  for  improving   ft£jT2LS 
his  pittance,  degrades  him  and  his  pro-   ought  not  to  waste 
ductions  in  the  public  eye.     He  falls  into 
the  second-rate  rank  of  estimation  : 

"  While  the  harness  sore  galls,  and  the  spurs  his  sides  goad, 
The  high-mettled  racer's  a  hack  on  the  road."2 

It  is  a  bitter  thought;  but  if  tears  start  at  it,  let  them 
flow.  I  am  so  much  of  this  mind,  that  if  any  one  would 
now  offer  to  relieve  all  my  embarrassments  on  condition  I 
would  continue  the  exertions  which  brought  it  there,  dear 
as  the  place  is  to  me,  I  hardly  think  I  could  undertake  the 
labour  on  which  I  entered  with  my  usual  alacrity  only  this 
morning,  though  not  without  a  boding  feeling  of  my  exer- 
tions proving  useless.  Yet  to  save  Abbotsford  I  would 
attempt  all  that  was  possible.  My  heart  clings  to  the 
place  I  have  created.  There  is  scarce  a  tree  on  it  that  does 
not  owe  its  being  to  me;  and  the  pain  of  leaving  it  is  greater 
than  I  can  tell.  I  have  about  £10,000  of  Constable's,  for 
which  I  am  bound  to  give  literary  value,  but  if  I  am  obliged 
to  pay  other  debts  for  him,  I  will  take  leave  to  retain  this  sum 

1  See  Nice  Valour,  by  John  Fletcher  ;  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Works. 
1  From  Charles  Dibdin's  song,  The  Racehorse. 


1825.]  JOUKNAL.  55 

at  his  credit.  We  shall  have  made  some  kittle  questions  of 
literary  property  amongst  us.  Once  more,  "  Patience,  cousin, 
and  shuffle  the  cards." 

I  have  endeavoured  at  times  to  give  vent  to  thoughts 
naturally  so  painful,  by  writing  these  notices,  partly  to  keep 
them  at  bay  by  busying  myself  with  the  history  of  the 
French  Convention.  I  thank  God  I  can  do  both  with 
reasonable  composure.  I  wonder  how  Anne  will  bear  this 
affliction  ?  She  is  passionate,  but  stout-hearted  and  coura- 
geous in  important  matters,  though  irritable  in  trifles.  I 
am  glad  Lockhart  and  his  wife  are  gone.  Why  ?  I  cannot 
tell ;  but  I  am  pleased  to  be  left  to  my  own  regrets  without 
being  melted  by  condolences,  though  of  the  most  sincere 
and  affectionate  kind. 

Anne  bears  her  misfortune  gallantly  and  well,  with  a 
natural  feeling,  no  doubt,  of  the  rank  and  consideration  she 
is  about  to  lose.  Lady  Scott  is  incredulous,  and  persists  in 
cherishing  hope  where  there  is  no  ground  for  hope.  I  wish 
it  may  not  bring  on  the  gloom  of  spirits  which  has  given  me 
such  distress.  If  she  were  the  active  person  she  once  was 
that  would  not  be.  Now  I  fear  it  more  than  what  Constable  or 
Cadell  will  tell  me  this  evening,  so  that  my  mind  is  made  up. 

Oddly  enough,  it  happened.  Mine  honest  friend  Hector 
came  in  before  dinner  to  ask  a  copy  of  my  seal  of  Arms, 
with  a  sly  kindliness  of  intimation  that  it  was  for  some 
agreeable  purpose. 

Half-past  Eight. — 1  closed  this  book  under  the  con- 
sciousness of  impending  ruin,  I  open  it  an  hour  after, 
thanks  be  to  God,  with  the  strong  hope  that  matters  may 
be  got  over  safely  and  honourably,  in  a  mercantile  sense. 
Cadell  came  at  eight  to  communicate  a  letter  from  Hurst 
and  Robinson,  intimating  they  had  stood  the  storm,  and 
though  clamorous  for  assistance  from  Scotland,  saying  they 
had  prepared  their  strongholds  without  need  of  the  banks. 


56  JOUKNAL.  [DEC. 

This  is  all  so  far  well,  but  I  will  not  borrow  any  money  on 
iny  estate  till  I  see  things  reasonably  safe.  Stocks  have 
risen  from to  ,  a  strong  proof 

This  was  a  mistake. 

that  confidence  is  restored.     But  I  will 

yield  to   no  delusive  hopes,  and  fall   back  fall  edge,  my 

resolutions  hold. 

I  shall  always  think  the  better  of  Cadell  for  this,  not 
merely  because  his  feet  are  beautiful  on  the  mountains  who 
brings  good  tidings,  but  because  he  showed  feeling — deep 
feeling,  poor  fellow — he  who  I  thought  had  no  more  than  his 
numeration  table,  and  who,  if  he  had  had  his  whole  counting- 
house  full  of  sensibility,  had  yet  his  wife  and  children  to 
bestow  it  upon — I  will  not  forget  this  if  I  get  through.  I 
love  the  virtues  of  rough  and  round  men ;  the  others  are  apt 
to  escape  in  salt  rheum,  sal-volatile,  and  a  white  pocket- 
handkerchief.  An  odd  thought  strikes  me :  when  I  die  will 
the  Journal  of  these  days  be  taken  out  of  the  ebony  cabinet 
at  Abbotsford,  and  read  as  the  transient  pout  of  a  man 
worth  £60,000,  with  wonder  that  the  well-seeming  Baronet 
should  ever  have  experienced  such  a  hitch  ?  Or  will  it 
be  found  in  some  obscure  lodging-house,  where  the  decayed 
son  of  chivalry  has  hung  up  his  scutcheon  for  some  20s.  a 
week,  and  where  one  or  two  old  friends  will  look  grave 
and  whisper  to  each  other,  "Poor  gentleman,"  "A  well- 
meaning  man,"  "  Nobody's  enemy  but  his  own,"  "  Thought  his 
parts  could  never  wear  out,"  "  Family  poorly  left,"  "  Pity  he 
took  that  foolish  title  "  ?  Who  can  answer  this  question  ? 

What  a  life  mine  has  been  ! — half  educated,  almost 
wholly  neglected  or  left  to  myself,  stuffing  my  head  with 
most  nonsensical  trash,  and  undervalued  in  society  for  a 
time  by  most  of  my  companions,  getting  forward  and  held 
a  bold  and  clever  fellow,  contrary  to  the  opinion  of  all  who 
thought  me  a  mere  dreamer,  broken-hearted  for  two  years, 
my  heart  handsomely  pieced  again,  but  the  crack  will  re- 


1825.]  JOURNAL.  57 

main  to  my  dying  day.  Rich  and  poor  four  or  five  times, 
once  on  the  verge  of  ruin,  yet  opened  new  sources  of  wealth 
almost  overflowing.  Now  taken  in  my  pitch  of  pride,  and 
nearly  winged  (unless  the  good  news  hold),  because  London 
chooses  to  be  in  an  uproar,  and  in  the  tumult  of  bulls  and 
bears,  a  poor  inoffensive  lion  like  myself  is  pushed  to  the 
wall.  And  what  is  to  be  the  end  of  it  ?  God  knows.  And 
so  ends  the  catechism. 

December  19. — Ballantyne  here  before  breakfast.  He 
looks  on  Cadell's  last  night's  news  with  more  confidence 
than  I  do ;  but  I  must  go  to  work  be  my  thoughts  sober  or 
lively.  Constable  came  in  and  sat  an  hour.  The  old  gentle- 
man is  firm  as  a  rock,  and  scorns  the  idea  of  Hurst  and 
Robinson's  stopping.  He  talks  of  going  up  to  London  next 
week  and  making  sales  of  our  interest  in  W[oodstock]  and 
Boney,  which  would  put  a  hedge  round  his  finances.  He  is 
a  very  clever  fellow,  and  will,  I  think,  bear  us  through. 

Dined  at  Lord  Chief-Baron's.1  Lord  Justice-Clerk; 
Lord  President ; 2  Captain  Scarlett,3  a  gentlemanlike  young 
man,  the  son  of  the  great  Counsel,4  and  a  friend  of  my 
son  Walter ;  Lady  Charlotte  Hope,  and  other  woman-kind  ; 
R.  Dundas  of  Arniston,  and  his  pleasant  and  good- 
humoured  little  wife,  whose  quick  intelligent  look  pleases 
me  more,  though  her  face  be  plain,  than  a  hundred 
mechanical  beauties. 

December  20. — I  like  Ch.  Ba.  Shepherd  very  much — as 
much,  I  think,  as  any  man  I  have  learned  to  know  of  late  years. 
There  is  a  neatness  and  precision,  a  closeness  and  truth,  in 
the  tone  of  his  conversation,  which  shows  what  a  lawyer  he 
must  have  been.  Perfect  good-humour  and  suavity  of  manner, 
with  a  little  warmth  of  temper  on  suitable  occasions.  His 

1  Sir  Samuel  Shepherd.  eighty-nine. 

3  The  Right  Hon.  Charles  Hope,  *  Afterwards    Sir   James    Yorke 

who  held  the  office  of  Lord  Presi-  Scarlett,  G.C.B. 

dent  of  the   Court  of  Session  for  4  Sir  James    Scarlett,    first   Lord 

thirty  years  ;  he  died  in  1851  aged  Abinger. 


58  JOUKNAL,  [DEC. 

great  deafness  alone  prevented  him  from  being  Lord  Chief- 
Justice.  I  never  saw  a  man  so  patient  under  such  a  malady. 
He  loves  society,  and  converses  excellently ;  yet  is  often 
obliged,  in  a  mixed  company  particularly,  to  lay  aside  his 
trumpet,  retire  into  himself,  and  withdraw  from  the  talk. 
He  does  this  with  an  expression  of  patience  on  his  counten- 
ance which  touches  one  much.  He  has  occasion  for  patience 
otherwise,  I  should  think,  for  Lady  S.  is  fine  and  fidgety, 
and  too  anxious  to  have  everything  pointe  devise. 

Constable's  licence  for  the  Dedication  is  come,  which  will 
make  him  happy.1 

Dined  with  James  Ballantyne,  and  met  my  old  friend 
Mathews,  the  comedian,  with  his  son,  now  grown  up  a 
clever,  rather  forward  lad,  who  makes  songs  in  the  style  of 
James  Smith  or  Colman,  and  sings  them  with  spirit ;  rather 
lengthy  though. 

December  21. — There  have  been  odd  associations  attending 
my  two  last  meetings  with  Mathews.  The  last  time  I  saw 
him,  before  yesterday  evening,  he  dined  with  me  in  com- 
pany with  poor  Sir  Alexander  Boswell,  who  was  killed 
within  two  or  three  months.2  I  never  saw  Sir  Alexander 

1  The  Dedication  of  Constable's  Castle  Street  on  the  10th  of  Febru- 

Miscellany  was  penned  by  Sir  ary.  Memoirs,  vol.  iii.  p.  262.  Mr. 

Walter — "To  His  Majesty  King  Lockhart  says,  "within  a  week," 

George  iv.,  the  most  generous  Patron  and  at  p.  33  vol.  vii.  gives  an  ac- 

even  of  the  most  humble  attempts  count  of  a  dinner  party.  Writing 

towards  the  advantage  of  his  sub-  so  many  years  after  the  event  he 

jects,  this  Miscellany,  designed  to  may  have  mistaken  the  date.  James 

extend  useful  knowledge  and  ele-  Boswell  died  in  London  24th  Febru- 

gant  literature,  by  placing  works  of  ary  1822 ;  his  brother,  Sir  Alexander, 

standard  merit  within  the  attain-  was  at  the  funeral,  and  did  not  re- 

ment  of  every  class  of  readers,  turn  to  Edinburgh  till  Saturday  23d 

is  most  humbly  inscribed  by  March.  James  Stuart  of  Dunearn 

His  Majesty's  dutiful  and  devoted  challenged  him  on  Monday  ;  they 

subject  —  Archibald  Constable." —  fought  on  Tuesday,  and  Boswell 

J.  o.  L.  died  on  the  following  day,  March  27. 

1  Probably  a  slip  of  the  pen  for  Mr.  Lockhart  says  that  "  several 

"  weeks,"  as  Mathews  was  in  circumstances  of  Sir  Alexander's 

London  in  March  (1822),  and  we  death  are  exactly  reproduced  in  the 

know  that  he  dined  with  Scott  in  duel  scene  in  St.  Honan's  Well." 


1825.]  JOUKNAL.  59 

more.1  The  time  before  was  in  1815,  when  John  Scott  of 
Gala  and  I  were  returning  from  France,  and  passed  through 
London,  when  we  brought  Mathews  down  as  far  as  Leaming- 
ton. Poor  Byron  lunched,  or  rather  made  an  early  dinner, 
with  us  at  Long's,  and  a  most  brilliant  day  we  had  of  it.  I 
never  saw  Byron  so  full  of  fun,  frolic,  wit,  and  whim  :  he 
was  as  playful  as  a  kitten.  Well,  I  never  saw  him  again.2 
So  this  man  of  mirth,  with  his  merry  meetings,  has  brought 
me  no  luck.  I  like  better  that  he  should  throw  in  his  talent 
of  mimicry  and  humour  into  the  present  current  tone  of  the 
company,  than  that  he  should  be  required  to  give  this,  that, 
and  t'other  lit  selected  from  his  public  recitations.  They 
are  good  certainly — excellent ;  but  then  you  must  laugh,  and 
that  is  always  severe  to  me.  When  I  do  laugh  in  sincerity, 
the  joke  must  be  or  seem  unpremeditated.  I  could  not  help 
thinking,  in  the  midst  of  the  glee,  what  gloom  had  lately 
been  over  the  minds  of  three  of  the  company,  Cadell,  J.  B., 
and  the  Journalist.  What  a  strange  scene  if  the  surge  of 
conversation  could  suddenly  ebb  like  the  tide,  and  [show]  us 
the  state  of  people's  real  minds  !  Savary  3  might  have  been 
gay  in  such  a  party  with  all  his  forgeries  in  his  heart. 

1  In  a  letter  to  Skene  written  London,  the  opportunity  of  enjoying 

late  in  1821,   Scott,  in  expressing  his  company  had  of  late  been  rare, 

his  regret  at  not  being  able  to  meet  Upon  the  present  occasion  he  had 

Boswell,  adds,  "I  hope  J.  Boz  comes  dined  with  me  in  the  greatest  health 

to  make  some  stay,  but  I  shall  scarce  and  spirits  the  evening  before  his 

forgive  him  for  not  coming  at  the  departure  for  London,  and  in  a  week 

fine  season. "    The  brothers  Boswell  we  had  accounts  of  his  having  been 

had  been  Mr.  Skene's  schoolfellows  seized  by  a  sudden  illness  which 

and  intimate  friends  ;  and  he  had  carried  him  off.     In  a  few  weeks 

lived  much  with  them  both  in  Eng-  more    his  brother,  Sir  Alexander, 

land  and  Scotland.  was  killed  in  a  duel  occasioned  by  a 

Mr.    Skene  says,    in  a   note   to  foolish  political  lampoon  which  he 

Letter  28,  that  "  they  were  men  of  had  written,  and  in  a  thoughtless 

remarkable  talents,  and  James  of  manner  suffered  to  find  its  way  to  a 

great    learning,    both    evincing    a  newspaper." — Reminiscences. 

dash  of  their  father's  eccentricity,  3  See  Life,  vol.  v.  p.  87. 

but  joined  to  greater  talent.      Sir  s  Henry  Savary,  son  of  a  banker 

Walter  took  great  pleasure  in  their  in  Bristol,  had  been  tried  for  forgery 

society,  but  James  being  resident  in  a  few  months  before. 


60  JOUKNAL.  [DEC. 

"  No  eyes  the  rocks  discover 
Which  lurk  beneath  the  deep."  r 

Life  could  not  be  endured  were  it  seen  in  reality. 

Things  are  mending  in  town,  and  H[urst]  and  R[obinson] 
write  with  confidence,  and  are,  it  would  seem,  strongly  sup- 
ported by  wealthy  friends.  Cadell  and  Constable  are  con- 
fident of  their  making  their  way  through  the  storm,  and  the 
impression  of  their  stability  is  general  in  London.  I  hear  the 
same  from  Lockhart.  Indeed,  I  now  believe  that  they  wrote 
gloomy  letters  to  Constable,  chiefly  to  get  as  much  money 
out  of  them  as  they  possibly  could.  But  they  had  well- 
nigh  overdone  it.  This  being  Teind  Wednesday  must  be 
a  day  of  leisure  and  labour.  Sophia  has  got  a  house,  25  Pall 
Mall.  Dined  at  home  with  Lady  Scott  and  Anne. 

December  22. — I  wrote  six  of  my  close  pages  yesterday, 
which  is  about  twenty-four  pages  in  print.  What  is  more, 
I  think  it  comes  off  twangingly.  The  story  is  so  very 
interesting  in  itself,  that  there  is  no  fear  of  the  book  answer- 
ing.2 Superficial  it  must  be,  but  I  do  not  disown  the  charge. 
Better  a  superficial  book,  which  brings  well  and  strikingly 
together  the  known  and  acknowledged  facts,  than  a  dull 
boring  narrative,  pausing  to  see  further  into  a  mill-stone  at 
every  moment  than  the  nature  of  the  mill-stone  admits. 
Nothing  is  so  tiresome  as  walking  through  some  beautiful 
scene  with  a  minute  philosopher,  a  botanist,  or  pebble- 
gatherer,  who  is  eternally  calling  your  attention  from  the 
grand  features  of  the  natural  scenery  to  look  at  grasses  and 
chucky-stones.  Yet,  in  their  way,  they  give  useful  informa- 
tion ;  and  so  does  the  minute  historian.  Gad,  I  think 
that  will  look  well  in  the  preface.  My  bile  is  quite  gone. 
I  really  believe  it  arose  from  mere  anxiety.  What  a  wonder- 
ful connection  between  the  mind  and  body ! 

The  air  of  "Bonnie  Dundee"  running  in  my  head  to-day,  I 
[wrote]  a  few  verses  to  it  before  dinner,  taking  the  key-note 

1  From  What  d'ye  call  it  ?  by  John  Gay. 
3  Life  of  Napoleon. — j.  o.  L. 


1825.]  JOURNAL.  61 

from  the  story  of  Clavers  leaving  the  Scottish  Convention 
of  Estates  in  1 6  88-9. l  I  wonder  if  they  are  good.  Ah !  poor 
Will  Erskine ! 2  thou  couldst  and  wouldst  have  told  me.  I 
must  consult  J.  B.,  who  is  as  honest  as  was  "W.  E.  But 
then,  though  he  has  good  taste  too,  there  is  a  little  of 
Big  Bow-wow  about  it.  Can't  say  what  made  me  take  a 
frisk  so  uncommon  of  late  years,  as  to  write  verses  of  free- 
will. I  suppose  the  same  impulse  which  makes  birds  sing 
when  the  storm  seems  blown  over. 

Dined  at  Lord  Minto's.  There  were  Lord  and  Lady 
Euthven,  Will  Clerk,  and  Thomas  Thomson, — a  right 
choice  party.  There  was  also  my  very  old  friend  Mrs. 
Brydone,  the  relict  of  the  traveller,3  and  daughter  of  Prin- 
cipal Robertson,  and  really  worthy  of  such  a  connection — 
Lady  Minto,  who  is  also  peculiarly  agreeable — and  her 
sister,  Mrs.  Admiral  Adam,  in  the  evening. 

December  23. — The  present  Lord  Minto  is  a  very  agree- 
able, well-informed,  and  sensible  man,  but  he  possesses 
neither  the  high  breeding,  ease  of  manner,  nor  eloquence 
of  his  father,  the  first  Earl.  That  Sir  Gilbert  was  indeed  a 
man  among  a  thousand.  I  knew  him  very  intimately  in 
the  beginning  of  the  century,  and,  which  was  very  agreeable, 
was  much  at  his  house  on  very  easy  terms.  He  loved  the 
Muses,  and  worshipped  them  in  secret,  and  used  to  read 
some  of  his  poetry,  which  was  but  middling. 

1  See  Scott's  Poetical  Works,  vol.  he  arranged  with  the  publishers  for 
xii.  pp.  194-97. — J.  G.  L.  Scott's  earliest  literary  venture,  a 

2  William  Erskine  of  Kinnedder  thin  4to  of  some  48  pages  entitled 
was  Scott's  senior  by  two  years  at  The  Chase,  etc.     See  Life  through- 
the  bar,  having  passed  Advocate  in  out,  more  particularly  vol.   i.   pp. 
1790.    He  became  Sheriff  of  Orkney  279-80,  333-4,  338-9  ;  ii.  pp.  103-4  ; 
in  1809,  and  took  his  seat  on  the  iv.  pp.  12,  166,  369  ;  v.  p.  174;  vi. 
Bench  as  Lord  Kinnedder,  29  Janu-  p.  393  ;  vii.  pp.  1,  5,  6,  70-74.     See 
ary  1822;  he  died  on  the  14th  of  Appendix  for  Mr.  Skene's  account 
August  following.      Scott  and   he  of   the   destruction   of  the   letters 
met  first  in  1792,    and,  as  is  well  from  Scott  to  Erskine. 

known,  he  afterwards  "became  the  3  Patrick  Brydone,  author  of  A 
nearest  and  most  confidential  of  all  Tour  through  Sicily  and  Malta. 
his  Edinburgh  associates."  In  1796  2  vols.  8vo,  1773. 


62  JOURNAL.  [DEC. 

Tom  Campbell  lived  at  Minto,  but  it  was  in  a  state  of 
dependence  which  he  brooked  very  ill.  He  was  kindly 
treated,  but  would  not  see  it  in  the  right  view,  and  suspected 
slights,  and  so  on,  where  no  such  thing  was  meant.  There 
was  a  turn  of  Savage  about  Tom,  though  without  his  black- 
guardism— a  kind  of  waywardness  of  mind  and  irritability 
that  must  have  made  a  man  of  his  genius  truly  unhappy. 
Lord  Minto,  with  the  mildest  manners,  was  very  tenacious 
of  his  opinions,  although  he  changed  them  twice  in  the 
crisis  of  politics.  He  was  the  early  friend  of  Fox,  and  made 
a  figure  towards  the  end  of  the  American  war,  or  during  the 
struggles  betwixt  Fox  and  Pitt.  Then  came  the  Revolution, 
and  he  joined  the  Anti-Gallican  party  so  keenly,  that  he 
declared  against  Addington's  peace  with  France,  and  was 
for  a  time,  I  believe,  a  Wyndhamite.  He  was  reconciled  to 
the  Whigs  on  the  Fox  and  Grenville  coalition ;  but  I  have 
heard  that  Fox,  contrary  to  his  wont,  retained  such  personal 
feelings  as  made  him  object  to  Sir  Gilbert  Elliot's  having 
a  seat  in  the  Cabinet ;  so  he  was  sent  as  Governor-General 
to  India — a  better  thing,  I  take  it,  for  his  fortune.  He  died 
shortly  after  his  return,1  at  Hatfield  or  Barnet,  on  his  way 
down  to  his  native  country.  He  was  a  most  pleasing  and 
amiable  man.  I  was  very  sorry  for  his  death,  though  I  do 
not  know  how  we  should  have  met,  for  the  contested  election 
in  1805  [in  Roxburghshire]  had  placed  some  coldness  betwixt 
the  present  Lord  and  me.  I  was  certainly  anxious  for 
Sir  Alexander  Don,  both  as  friend  of  my  most  kind  friend 
Charles,  Duke  of  Buccleuch,  and  on  political  accounts ;  and 
those  thwartings  are  what  men  in  public  life  do  not  like 
to  endure.  After  a  cessation  of  friendship  for  some  years, 
we  have  come  about  again.  We  never  had  the  slightest 
personal  dispute  or  disagreement.  But  politics  are  the 
blowpipe  beneath  whose  influence  the  best  cemented  friend- 

1  Gilbert,  Earl  of  Minto,  died  in  June  1814.— j.  o.  L. 


1825.]  JOUKNAL.  63 

ships  too  often  dissever ;  and  ours,  after  all,  was  only  a  very 
familiar  acquaintance. 

It  is  very  odd  that  the  common  people  at  Minto  and 
the  neighbourhood  will  not  believe  to  this  hour  that  the 
first  Earl  is  dead.  They  think  he  had  done  something  in 
India  which  he  could  not  answer  for — that  the  house  was 
rebuilt  on  a  scale  unusually  large  to  give  him  a  suite  of 
secret  apartments,  and  that  he  often  walks  about  the  woods 
and  crags  of  Minto  at  night,  with  a  white  nightcap,  and  long 
white  beard.  The  circumstance  of  his  having  died  on  the 
road  down  to  Scotland  is  the  sole  foundation  of  this  absurd 
legend,  which  shows  how  willing  the  vulgar  are  to  gull 
themselves  when  they  can  find  no  one  else  to  take  the  trouble. 
I  have  seen  people  who  could  read,  write,  and  cipher,  shrug 
their  shoulders  and  look  mysterious  when  this  subject  was 
mentioned.  One  very  absurd  addition  was  made  on  occasion 
of  a  great  ball  at  Minto  House,  which  it  was  said  was  given 
to  draw  all  people  away  from  the  grounds,  that  the  concealed 
Earl  might  have  leisure  for  his  exercise.  This  was  on  the 
principle  in  the  German  play,1  where,  to  hide  their  con- 
spiracy, the  associates  join  in  a  chorus  song. 

"We  dined  at  home ;  Mr.  Davidoff  and  his  tutor  kept  an 
engagement  with  us  to  dinner  notwithstanding  the  death  of 
the  Emperor  Alexander.  They  went  to  the  play  with  the 
womankind ;  I  stayed  at  home  to  write. 

December  24. — Wrote  Walter  and  Jane,  and  gave  the 
former  an  account  of  how  things  had  been  in  the  money 
market,  and  the  loan  of  £10,000.  Constable  has  a  scheme 
of  publishing  the  works  of  the  Author  of  Wfaverley]  in  a 
superior  style,  at  £1,  Is.  volume.  He  says  he  will  answer 
for  making  £20,000  of  this,  and  liberally  offered  me  any 
share  of  the  profit.  I  have  no  great  claim  to  any,  as  I  have 
only  to  contribute  the  notes,  which  are  light  work ;  yet  a 
few  thousands  coming  in  will  be  a  good  thing — besides  the 

1  See  Canning's  German  Play,  in  the  Anli- Jacobin.— j.  G.  L. 


64  JOUKNAL.  [DEC. 

P[rinting]  Office.  Constable,  though  valetudinary,  and  cross 
with  his  partner,  is  certainly  as  good  a  pilot  in  these  rough 
seas  as  ever  man  put  faith  in.  His  rally  has  put  me  in 
mind  of  the  old  song : — 

"  The  tailor  raise  and  shook  his  duds, 
He  gar'd  the  BILLS  flee  aff  in  cluds, 
And  they  that  stayed  gat  fearfu'  thuds — 
The  tailor  proved  a  man,  0." 1 

We  are  for  Abbotsford  to-day,  with  a  light  heart. 

Abbotsford,  December  25. — Arrived  here  last  night  at 
seven.  Our  halls  are  silent  compared  to  last  year,  but  let 
us  be  thankful — when  we  think  how  near  the  chance 
appeared  but  a  week  since  that  these  halls  would  have 
been  ours  no  longer.  Barbarus  has  segetes  ?  Nullum  numen 
dbest,  si  sit  prudentia.  There  shall  be  no  lack  of  wisdom. 
But  come — il  faut  cultiver  notre  jardin?  Let  us  see :  I 
will  write  out  the  "Bonnets  of  Bonnie  Dundee";  I 
will  sketch  a  preface  to  La  Rochejacquelin  for  Constable's 
Miscellany,  and  try  about  a  specimen  of  notes  for  the 
W[averley  Novels].  Together  with  letters  and  by-business, 
it  will  be  a  good  day's  work. 

"  I  make  a  vow, 
And  keep  it  true." 

I  will  accept  no  invitation  for  dinner,  save  one  to  Newton- 
Don,  and  Mertoun  to-morrow,  instead  of  Christmas  Day. 
On  this  day  of  general  devotion  I  have  a  particular  call 
for  gratitude ! ! 

My  God!  what  poor  creatures  we  are!  After  all  my 
fair  proposals  yesterday,  I  was  seized  with  a  most  violent 
pain  in  the  right  kidney  and  parts  adjacent,  which,  joined 
to  deadly  sickness  which  it  brought  on,  forced  me  instantly  to 
go  to  bed  and  send  for  Clarkson.3  He  came  and  inquired, 

1  See  Johnson's  Musical  Museum,         3  James  Clarkson,  Esq.,  surgeon, 
No.  490,  slightly  altered.  Melrose,  son  to  Scott's  old  friend, 

2  See  Candide. — J.  o.  L.  Dr.  Clarkson  of  Selkirk. — j.  o.  L. 


1825.]  JOURNAL.  65 

pronouncing  the  complaint  to  be  gravel  augmented  by  bile. 
I  was  in  great  agony  till  about  two  o'clock,  but  awoke 
with  the  pain  gone.  I  got  up,  had  a  fire  in  my  dressing- 
closet,  and  had  Dalgleish  to  shave  me — two  trifles,  which 
I  only  mention,  because  they  are  contrary  to  my  hardy  and 
independent  personal  habits.  But  although  a  man  cannot 
be  a  hero  to  his  valet,  his  valet  in  sickness  becomes  of 
great  use  to  him.  I  cannot  expect  that  this  first  will  be 
the  last  visit  of  this  cruel  complaint ;  but  shall  we  receive 
good  at  the  hand  of  God,  and  not  receive  evil  ? 

December  27th. — Slept  twelve  hours  at  a  stretch,  being 
much  exhausted.  Totally  without  pain  to-day,  but  un- 
comfortable from  the  effects  of  calomel,  which,  with  me 
at  least,  is  like  the  assistance  of  an  auxiliary  army,  just 
one  degree  more  tolerable  than  the  enemy  it  chases  away. 
Calomel  contemplations  are  not  worth  recording.  I  wrote 
an  introduction  and  a  few  notes  to  the  Memoirs  of  Madame 
La  Rochejacguelin^  being  all  that  I  was  equal  to. 

Sir  Adam  Ferguson  came  over  and  tried  to  marry 
my  verses  to  the  tune  of  "Bonnie  Dundee."  They  seem 
well  adapted  to  each  other.  Dined  with  Lady  Scott  and 
Anne. 

Worked  at  Pepys  in  the  evening,  with  the  purpose  of 
review  for  Lockhart.2  Notwithstanding  the  depressing  effects 
of  the  calomel,  I  feel  the  pleasure  of  being  alone  and  unin- 
terrupted. Few  men,  leading  a  quiet  life,  and  without  any 
strong  or  highly  varied  change  of  circumstances,  have  seen 
more  variety  of  society  than  I — few  have  enjoyed  it  more,  or 
been  bored,  as  it  is  called,  less  by  the  company  of  tiresome 
people.  I  have  rarely,  if  ever,  found  any  one,  out  of  whom 
I  could  not  extract  amusement  or  edification ;  and  were  I 
obliged  to  account  for  hints  afforded  on  such  occasions, 

1  See  Constable's  Miscellany,  vol.      January   1826— or    Scott's    Miscd- 
v. — j.  G.  L.  laneous  Prose  Works. — j.  G.  L. 

2  See  the  Quarterly  Review  for 

E 


66  JOUKNAL.  [DEC. 

I  should  make  an  ample  deduction  from  my  inventive 
powers.  Still,  however,  from  the  earliest  time  I  can  re- 
member, I  preferred  the  pleasure  of  being  alone  to  waiting 
for  visitors,  and  have  often  taken  a  bannock  and  a  bit  of 
cheese  to  the  wood  or  hill,  to  avoid  dining  with  company. 
As  I  grew  from  boyhood  to  manhood  I  saw  this  would 
not  do ;  and  that  to  gain  a  place  in  men's  esteem  I  must 
mix  and  bustle  with  them.  Pride  and  an  excitation  of 
spirits  supplied  the  real  pleasure  which  others  seem  to  feel 
in  society,  and  certainly  upon  many  occasions  it  was  real. 
Still,  if  the  question  was,  eternal  company,  without  the 
power  of  retiring  within  yourself,  or  solitary  confinement 
for  life,  I  should  say,  "  Turnkey,  lock  the  cell !"  My  life, 
though  not  without  its  fits  of  waking  and  strong  exertion, 
has  been  a  sort  of  dream,  spent  in 

"  Chewing  the  cud  of  sweet  and  bitter  fancy."1 

I  have  worn  a  wishing-cap,  the  power  of  which  has  been  to 
divert  present  griefs  by  a  touch  of  the  wand  of  imagination, 
and  gild  over  the  future  prospect  by  prospects  more  fair  than 
can  ever  be  realised.  Somewhere  it  is  said  that  this  castle- 
building — this  wielding  of  the  aerial  trowel — is  fatal  to  exer- 
tions in  actual  life.  I  cannot  tell ;  I  have  not  found  it  so.  I 
cannot,  indeed,  say  like  Madame  Genlis,  that  in  the  imaginary 
scenes  in  which  I  have  acted  a  part  I  ever  prepared  myself 
for  anything  which  actually  befell  me  ;  but  I  have  certainly 
fashioned  out'  much  that  made  the  present  hour  pass 
pleasantly  away,  and  much  that  has  enabled  me  to  contri- 
bute to  the  amusement  of  the  public.  Since  I  was  five  years 
old  I  cannot  remember  the  time  when  I  had  not  some  ideal 
part  to  play  for  my  own  solitary  amusement. 

December  28. — Somehow  I  think  the  attack  on  Christmas 
Day  has  been  of  a  critical  kind,  and,  having  gone  off  so  well, 
may  be  productive  rather  of  health  than  continued  indisposi- 

1  A  a  You  Like  it,  Act  iv.  So.  3. — J.  G.  L. 


1825.]  JOURNAL.  67 

tion.  If  one  is  to  get  a  renewal  of  health  in  his  fifty-fourth 
year,  he  must  look  to  pay  fine  for  it.  Last  night  George 
Thomson l  came  to  see  how  I  was,  poor  fellow.  He  has  talent, 
is  well  informed,  and  has  an  excellent  heart ;  but  there  is 
an  eccentricity  about  him  that  defies  description.  I  wish 
to  God  I  saw  him  provided  in  a  country  kirk.  That,  with  a 
rational  wife — that  is,  if  there  is  such  a  thing  to  be  gotten  for 
him, — would,  I  think,  bring  him  to  a  steady  temper.  At 
present  he  is  between  the  tyning  and  the  winning.  If  I 
could  get  him  to  set  to  any  hard  study,  he  would  do  some- 
thing clever. 

Hmv  to  make  a  critic. — A  sly  rogue,  sheltering  himself 
under  the  generic  name  of  Mr.  Campbell,  requested  of  me, 
through  the  penny-post,  the  loan  of  £50  for  two  years, 
having  an  impulse,  as  he  said,  to  make  this  demand.  As  I 
felt  no  corresponding  impulse,  I  begged  to  decline  a  demand 
which  might  have  been  as  reasonably  made  by  any  Campbell 
on  earth ;  and  another  impulse  has  determined  the  man  of 
fifty  pounds  to  send  me  anonymous  abuse  of  my  works  and 
temper  and  selfish  disposition.  The  severity  of  the  joke  lies 
in  14d.  for  postage,  to  avoid  which  his  next  epistle  shall  go 
back  to  the  clerks  of  the  Post  Office,  as  not  for  S.  W.  S. 
How  the  severe  rogue  would  be  disappointed,  if  he  knew  I 
never  looked  at  more  than  the  first  and  last  lines  of  his 
satirical  effusion ! 

When  I  first  saw  that  a  literary  profession  was  to  be  my 
fate,  I  endeavoured  by  all  efforts  of  stoicism  to  divest  myself 
of  that  irritable  degree  of  sensibility — or,  to  speak  plainly, 
of  vanity — which  makes  the  poetical  race  miserable  and 
ridiculous.  The  anxiety  of  a  poet  for  praise  and  for  com- 
pliments I  have  always  endeavoured  [to  keep  down]. 

1  Formerly  tutor  at  Abbotsford.  George  Thomson — the  happy  'Do- 
Mr.  Lockhart  says:  "I  observe,  minie  Thomson 'of  the  happy  days  of 
as  the  sheet  is  passing  through  Abbotsford  :  he  died  at  Edinburgh 
the  press,  the  death  of  the  Rev-  on  the  8th  of  January  1838." 


68  JOUENAL.  [DEC. 

December  29. — Base  feelings  this  same  calomel  gives  one 
— mean,  poor,  and  abject — a  wretch,  as  Will  Eose  says : — 
"  Fie,  fie,  on  silly  coward  man, 
That  he  should  be  the  slave  o't." 1 

Then  it  makes  one  "  wofully  dogged  and  snappish,"  as  Dr. 
Eutty,  the  Quaker,  says  in  his  Cfurnal* 

Sent  Lockhart  four  pages  on  Sheridan's  plays ;  not  very 
good,  I  think,  but  the  demand  came  sudden.  Must  go  to 
W — k!3  yet  am  vexed  by  that  humour  of  contradiction 
which  makes  me  incline  to  do  anything  else  in  preference. 
Commenced  preface  for  new  edition  of  my  Novels.  The 
city  of  Cork  send  my  freedom  in  a  silver  box.  I  thought 
I  was  out  of  their  grace  for  going  to  see  Blarney  rather 
than  the  Cove,  for  which  I  was  attacked  and  defended 
in  the  papers  when  in  Ireland.  I  am  sure  they  are  so  civil 
that  I  would  have  gone  wherever  they  wished  me  to  go  if  I 
had  had  any  one  to  have  told  me  what  I  ought  to  be  most 
inquisitive  about. 

"  For  if  I  should  as  lion  come  in  strife 
Into  such  place,  't  were  pity  of  my  life."  4 

December  30. — Spent  at  home  and  in  labour — with  the 
weight  of  unpleasant  news  from  Edinburgh.  J.  B.  is  like 
to  be  pinched  next  week  unless  the  loan  can  be  brought 
forward.  I  must  and  have  endeavoured  to  supply  him.  At 
present  the  result  of  my  attempts  is  uncertain.  I  am  even 
more  anxious  about  C[onstable]  &  Co.,  unless  they  can  get 
assistance  from  their  London  friends  to  whom  they  gave 
much.  All  is  in  God's  hands.  The  worst  can  only  be  what 
I  have  before  anticipated.  But  I  must,  I  think,  renounce  the 

1  Burns'a  "  O  poortith  cauld  and  much    amused  with    the    Quaker 

restless  love. "  doctor's   minute  confessions.      See 

8  John  Rutty,  M.D.,  a  physician  the  Life  of  Johnson  sub  anno  1777. 

of  some  eminence  in  Dublin,  died  in  — j.  o.  L 

1775,  and  his  executors  published  3  Woodstock — contracted    for   in 

his  very  curious  and  absurd  "Spiri-  1823. 

tual  Diary  and  Soliloquies."    Bos-  4  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream, 

well    describes   Johnson    as  being  Act  in.  Sc.  1. 


1825.]  JOUKNAL.  69 

cigars.  They  brought  "back  (using  two  this  evening)  the 
irritation  of  which  I  had  no  feelings  while  abstaining  from 
them.  Dined  alone  with  Gordon,1  Lady  S.,  and  Anne. 
James  Curie,  Melrose,  has  handsomely  lent  me  £600 ;  he 
has  done  kindly.  I  have  served  him  before  and  will  again 
if  in  my  power. 

December  31. — Took  a  good  sharp  walk  the  first  time 
since  my  illness,  and  found  myself  the  better  in  health  and 
spirits.  Being  Hogmanay,  there  dined  with  us  Colonel 
Eussell  and  his  sisters,  Sir  Adam  Ferguson  and  Lady, 
Colonel  Ferguson,  with  Mary  and  Margaret ;  an  auld-warld 
party,  who  made  themselves  happy  in  the  auld  fashion.  I 
felt  so  tired  about  eleven  that  I  was  forced  to  steal  to  bed. 

1  George  Huntly  Gordon,  amanuensis  to  Scott. 


1826 


1826.— JANUAEY. 

January  1. — A  year  has  passed — another  has  commenced. 
These  solemn  divisions  of  time  influence  our  feelings  as  they 
recur.  Yet  there  is  nothing  in  it ;  for  every  day  in  the  year 
closes  a  twelvemonth  as  well  as  the  31st  December.  The 
latter  is  only  the  solemn  pause,  as  when  a  guide,  showing  a 
wild  and  mountainous  road,  calls  on  a  party  to  pause  and  look 
back  at  the  scenes  which  they  have  just  passed.  To  me  this 
new  year  opens  sadly.  There  are  these  troublesome  pecuniary 
difficulties,  which  however,  I  think,  this  week  should  end. 
There  is  the  absence  of  all  my  children,  Anne  excepted, 
from  our  little  family  festival.  There  is,  besides,  that  ugly 
report  of  the  15th  Hussars  going  to  India,  Walter,  I 
suppose,  will  have  some  step  in  view,  and  will  go,  and  I 
fear  Jane  will  not  dissuade  him. 

A  hard,  frosty  day — cold,  but  dry  and  pleasant  under 
foot.  "Walked  into  the  plantations  with  Anne  and  Anne 
Kussell.  A  thought  strikes  me,  alluding  to  this  period  of 
the  year.  People  say  that  the  whole  human  frame  in  all 
its  parts  and  divisions  is  gradually  in  the  act  of  decaying 
and  renewing.  What  a  curious  timepiece  it  would  be  that 
could  indicate  to  us  the  moment  this  gradual  and  insensible 
change  had  so  completely  taken  place,  that  no  atom  was  left 
of  the  original  person  who  had  existed  at  a  certain  period, 
but  there  existed  in  his  stead  another  person  having  the  same 
limbs,  thews,  and  sinews,  the  same  face  and  lineaments,  the 
same  consciousness — a  new  ship  built  on  an  old  plank — a 
pair  of  transmigrated  stockings,  like  those  of  Sir  John  Cutler,1 

1  The  parsimonious  yet  liberal  Brown's  Lectures  on  the  Philosophy 
London  merchant,  whose  miserly  of  the  Human  Mind,  vol  i.  p.  244, 
habits  gave  Arbuthnot  the  mate-  and  Martin  Scriblerus,  cap.  xii., 
rials  of  the  story.  See  Professor  Pope,  vol.  iv.  p.  54,  Edin.  1776. 

73 


74  JOUKNAL.  [JAN. 

all  green  silk,  without  one  thread  of  the  original  black 
silk  left !  Singular — to  be  at  once  another  and  the  same. 

January  2. — Weather  clearing  up  in  Edinburgh  once 
more,  and  all  will,  I  believe,  do  well.  I  am  pressed  to  get 
on  with  Woodstock,  and  must  try.  I  wish  I  could  open  a 
good  vein  of  interest  which  would  breathe  freely.  I  must 
take  my  old  way,  and  write  myself  into  good-humour  with 
my  task.  It  is  only  when  I  dally  with  what  I  am  about, 
look  back,  and  aside,  instead  of  keeping  my  eyes  straight 
forward,  that  I  feel  these  cold  sinkings  of  the  heart.  All 
men  I  suppose  do,  less  or  more.  They  are  like  the  sensa- 
tion of  a  sailor  when  the  ship  is  cleared  for  action,  and 
all  are  at  their  places — gloomy  enough  ;  but  the  first  broad- 
side puts  all  to  rights.  Dined  at  Huntly  Burn  with  the 
Fergusons  en  niasse. 

January  3. — Promises  a  fair  day,  and  I  think  the 
progress  of  my  labours  will  afford  me  a  little  exercise,  which 
I  greatly  need  to  help  off  the  calomel  feeling.  Walked  with 
Colonel  Eussell  from  eleven  till  two — the  first  good  day's 
exercise  I  have  had  since  coming  here.  We  went  through 
all  the  Terrace,  the  Eoman  Planting,1  over  by  the  Stiel  and 
Haxellcleuch,  and  so  by  the  Ehymer's  Glen  to  Chiefswood,2 
which  gave  my  heart  a  twinge,  so  disconsolate  it  seemed. 
Yet  all  is  for  the  best.  Called  at  Huntly  Burn,  and 
shook  hands  with  Sir  Adam  and  his  Lady  just  going  off. 
When  I  returned,  signed  the  bond  for  £10,000,  which  will 
disencumber  me  of  all  pressing  claims ; 3  when  I  get  forward 

W k  and  Nap.  there  will  be  £12,000  and  upwards,  and  I 

hope  to  add  £3000  against  this  time  next  year,  or  the  devil 


1  This  plantation  now  covers  the  3  When  settling  his  estate  on  his 

remains  of  an  old  Roman  road  from  eldest  son,  Sir  Walter  had  retained 

the  Great  Camp  on  the  Eildon  the  power  of  burdening  it  with 

Hills  to  the  ford  below  Scott's  £10,000  for  behoof  of  his  younger 

house. — J.  a.  L.  children  ;  he  now  raised  the  sum 

a  The  residence  for  several  years  for  the  assistance  of  the  struggling 

of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lockhart.  firms. — J.  o.  L.  See  Dec.  14,  1825. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  75 

must  hold  the  dice.  J.  B.  writes  me  seriously  on  the  care- 
lessness of  my  style.  I  do  not  think  I  am  more  careless 
than  usual;  but  I  dare  say  he  is  right.  I  will  be  more 
cautious. 

January  4. — Despatched  the  deed  yesterday  executed. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Skene,  my  excellent  friends,  came  to  us  from 
Edinburgh.  Skene,  distinguished  for  his  attainments  as  a 
draughtsman,  and  for  his  highly  gentlemanlike  feelings  and 
character,  is  Laird  of  Rubislaw,  near  Aberdeen.  Having 
had  an  elder  brother,  his  education  was  somewhat  neglected 
in  early  life,  against  which  disadvantage  he  made  a  most 
gallant  [fight],  exerting  himself  much  to  obtain  those  ac- 
complishments which  he  has  since  possessed.  Admirable  in 
all  exercises,  there  entered  a  good  deal  of  the  cavalier  into 
his  early  character.  Of  late  he  has  given  himself  much  to 
the  study  of  antiquities.  His  wife,  a  most  excellent  person, 
was  tenderly  fond  of  Sophia.  They  bring  so  much  old- 
fashioned  kindness  and  good-humour  with  them,  besides  the 
recollections  of  other  times,  that  they  must  be  always 
welcome  guests.  Letter  from  Mr.  Scrope,1  announcing  a 
visit. 

January  5. — Got  the  desired  accommodation  with  Coutts, 
which  will  put  J.  B.  quite  straight,  but  am  a  little  anxious 
still  about  Constable.  He  has  immense  stock,  to  be  sure, 
and  most  valuable,  but  he  may  have  sacrifices  to  make  to 
convert  a  large  proportion  of  it  into  ready  money.  The 
accounts  from  London  are  most  disastrous.  Many  wealthy 
persons  totally  ruined,  and  many,  many  more  have  been 
obliged  to  purchase  their  safety  at  a  price  they  will  feel  all 
their  lives.  I  do  not  hear  things  are  so  bad  in  Edinburgh ; 

1  William  Scrope,  author  of  Days  time  "he    had    a    lease    of    Lord 

of  Deer  Stalking,  roy.  8vo,  1839  ;  and  Somerville's  pavilion  opposite  Mel- 

Days  and  Nights  of  Salmon  Fishing,  rose,  and  lived  on  terms  of  affec- 

roy.  8vo,  1843  ;  died  in  his  81st  year  tionate  intimacy  with  Sir  Walter 

in  1852.     Mr.  Lockhart  says  of  this  Scott." 
enthusiastic  sportsman  that  at  this 


76  JOURNAL.  [JAN. 

and  J.  B.'s  business  has  been  transacted  by  the  banks  with 
liberality. 

Colonel  Russell  told  us  last  night  that  the  last  of  the 
Moguls,  a  descendant  of  Kubla-Khan,  though  having  no 
more  power  than  his  effigies  at  the  back  of  a  set  of  playing- 
cards,  refused  to  meet  Lord  Hastings,  because  the  Governor- 
General  would  not  agree  to  remain  standing  in  his  presence. 
Pretty  well  for  the  blood  of  Timur  in  these  degenerate 
days! 

Much  alarmed.  I  had  walked  till  twelve  with  Skene  and 
Col.  Russell,  and  then  sat  down  to  my  work.  To  my  horror 
and  surprise  I  could  neither  write  nor  spell,  but  put  down 
one  word  for  another,  and  wrote  nonsense.  I  was  much 
overpowered  at  the  same  time,  and  could  not  conceive  the 
reason.  I  fell  asleep,  however,  in  my  chair,  and  slept  for 
two  hours.  On  waking  my  head  was  clearer,  and  I  began 
to  recollect  that  last  night  I  had  taken  the  anodyne  left  for 
the  purpose  by  Clarkson,  and  being  disturbed  in  the  course 
of  the  night,  I  had  not  slept  it  off. 

Obliged  to  give  up  writing  to-day — read  Pepys  instead. 
The  Scotts  of  Harden  were  to  have  dined,  but  sent  an 
apology, — storm  coming  on.  Russells  left  us  this  morning 
to  go  to  Haining. 

January  6. — This  seems  to  be  a  feeding  storm,  coming 
on  by  little  and  little.  Wrought  all  day,  and  dined  quiet. 
My  disorder  is  wearing  off,  and  the  quiet  society  of  the 
Skenes  suits  with  my  present  humour.  I  really  thought  I 
was  in  for  some  very  bad  illness.  Curious  expression  of  an 
Indian-born  boy  just  come  from  Bengal,  a  son  of  my  cousin 
George  Swinton.  The  child  saw  a  hare  run  across  the  fields, 
and  exclaimed,  "  See,  there  is  a  little  tiger ! " 

January  7,  Sunday. — Knight,  a  young  artist,  son  of  the 
performer,  came  to  paint  my  picture  at  the  request  of  Terry. 
This  is  very  far  from  being  agreeable,  as  I  submitted  to  this 
distressing  state  of  constraint  last  year  to  Newton,  at  request 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  77 

of  Lockhart ;  to  Leslie  at  request  of  my  American  friend ; l 
to  Wilkie,  for  his  picture  of  the  King's  arrival  at  Holyrood 
House ;  and  some  one  besides.  I  am  as  tired  of  the  opera- 
tion as  old  Maida,  who  had  been  so  often  sketched  that  he 
got  up  and  went  away  with  signs  of  loathing  whenever  he 
saw  an  artist  unfurl  his  paper  and  handle  his  brushes.  But 
this  young  man  is  civil  and  modest ;  and  I  have  agreed  he 
shall  sit  in  the  room  while  I  work,  and  take  the  best  likeness 
he  can,  without  compelling  me  into  fixed  attitudes  or  the 
yawning  fatigues  of  an  actual  sitting.  I  think,  if  he  has 
talent,  he  may  do  more  my  way  than  in  the  customary 
mode;  at  least  I  can't  have  the  hang-dog  look  which  the 
unfortunate  Theseus  has  who  is  doomed  to  sit  for  what 
seems  an  eternity.2 

I  wrought  till  two  o'clock — indeed  till  I  was  almost 
nervous  with  correcting  and  scribbling.  I  then  walked,  or 
rather  was  dragged,  through  the  snow  by  Tom  Purdie,  while 
Skene  accompanied.  What  a  blessing  there  is  in  a  man 
like  Tom,  whom  no  familiarity  can  spoil,  whom  you  may 
scold  and  praise  and  joke  with,  knowing  the  quality  of  the 
man  is  unalterable  in  his  love  and  reverence  to  his  master. 
Use  an  ordinary  servant  in  the  same  way  and  he  will  be 
your  master  in  a  month.  We  should  thank  God  for  the  snow 
as  well  as  summer  flowers.  This  brushing  exercise  has 
put  all  my  nerves  into  tone  again,  which  were  really  jarred 
with  fatigue  until  my  very  backbone  seemed  breaking.  This 

1  Mr.  George  Ticknor  of  Boston.         Leslie  himself  thought  Chantrey's 

He  saw  much  of  Scott  and  his  family  was  the  best  of  all  the  portraits, 

in  the  spring  of  1819  in  Edinburgh  "The  gentle  turn  of  the  head,  in- 

and  at  Abbotsford  ;  and  was  again  clined  a  little  forward  and  down, 

in   Scotland  in  1838.     Both  visits  and  the  lurking  humour  in  the  eye 

are  well  described  in  his  journals,  and  about  the  mouth,  are  Scott's 

published  in  Boston  in  1876.  own." — Autobiographical    Hecollec~ 

Mrs.  Lockhart  was  of  opinion  that  tions  of  Leslie,  edited  by  Taylor, 

Leslie's  portrait  of  her  father  was  vol.  i.  p.  118. 

the  best  extant,  "and  nothing  equals  *  ...  sedet,  eternumque  sedebit 
it  except  Chantrey's  bust. " — Tick-  Inf elix  Theseus  .  .  . 

nor's  Life,  vol.  i.  p.  107.  VIBGIL. — j.  G.  L. 


78  JOUBNAL.  [JAN. 

comes  of  trying  to  do  too  much.  J.  B.'s  news  are  as  good  as 
possible. — Prudence,  prudence,  and  all  will  do  excellently. 

January  8. — Frost  and  snow  still.  "Write  to  excuse 
myself  from  attending  the  funeral  of  my  aunt,  Mrs.  Curie, 
which  takes  place  to-morrow  at  Kelso.  She  was  a  woman 
of  the  old  Sandy-Knowe  breed,  with  the  strong  sense,  high 
principle,  and  indifferent  temper  which  belonged  to  my 
father's  family.  She  lived  with  great  credit  on  a  moderate 
income,  and,  I  believe,  gave  away  a  great  deal  of  it.1 

January  9. — Mathews  the  comedian  and  his  son  came 
to  spend  a  day  at  Abbotsford.  The  last  is  a  clever  young 
man,  with  much  of  his  father's  talent  for  mimicry.  Bather 
forward  though.2  Mr.  Scrope  also  came  out,  which  fills  our 
house. 

January  10. —  Bodily  health,  the  mainspring  of  the 
microcosm,  seems  quite  restored.  No  more  flinching  or 
nervous  fits,  but  the  sound  mind  in  the  sound  body.  What 
poor  things  does  a  fever-fit  or  an  overflowing  of  the  bile 
make  of  the  masters  of  creation ! 

The  snow  begins  to  fall  thick  this  morning — 

"  The  landlord  then  aloud  did  say, 
As  how  he  wished  they  would  go  away." 

To  have  our  friends  shut  up  here  would  be  rather  too 
much  of  a  good  thing. 

The  day  cleared  up  and  was  very  pleasant.  Had  a  good 
walk  and  looked  at  the  curling.  Mr.  Mathews  made  himself 
very  amusing  in  the  evening.  He  has  the  good-nature  to 

1  In  a  letter  of  this  date  to  his  others  of  that  family." — J.  o.  L. 

sister-in-law,  Mrs.   Thomas  Scott,  2  See  letter  addressed  by  C.   J. 

Sir    Walter    says:  —  "Poor    aunt  Mathews  to  his  mother,  in  which 

Curie  died  like  a  Roman,  or  rather  he  says,  "I  took  particular  notice 

like    one    of    the    Sandy-Knowe  of    everything    in    the    room    (Sir 

bairns,    the    most    stoical    race    I  Walter's  sanctum),   and  if  he  had 

ever  knew.     She  turned  every  one  left  me  there,  should  certainly  have 

out   of  the  room,    and    drew  her  read  all  his  notes."  Memoirs,  edited 

last  breath  alone.    So  did  my  uncle,  by  Dickens,  2  vols.,  London,  1879, 

Captain  Robert  Scott,  and  several  vol.  i.  p.  284. 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  79 

show  his  accomplishments  without  pressing,  and  without  the 
appearance  of  feeling  pain.  On  the  contrary,  I  dare  say  he 
enjoys  the  pleasure  he  communicates. 

January  11. — I  got  proof-sheets,  in  which  it  seems  I 
have  repeated  a  whole  passage  of  history  which  had  been 
told  before.  James  is  in  an  awful  stew,  and  I  cannot  blame 
him ;  but  then  he  should  consider  the  hyoscyamus  which  I 
was  taking,  and  the  anxious  botheration  about  the  money- 
market.  However,  as  Chaucer  says : — 

"  There  is  na  workeman 
That  can  bothe  worken  wel  and  hastilie  ; 
This  must  be  done  at  leisure  parfitly." l 

January  12. — Mathews  last  night  gave  us  a  very  per- 
fect imitation  of  old  Cumberland,  who  carried  the  poetic 
jealousy  and  irritability  further  than  any  man  I  ever  saw. 
He  was  a  great  flatterer  too,  the  old  rogue.  Will  Erskine 
used  to  admire  him.  I  think  he  wanted  originality.  A 
very  high-bred  man  in  point  of  manners  in  society. 

My  little  artist,  Knight,  gets  on  better  with  his  portrait 
— the  features  are,  however,  too  pinched,  I  think. 

Upon  the  whole,  the  days  pass  pleasantly  enough — work 
till  one  or  two,  then  an  hour  or  two's  walk  in  the  snow,  then 
lighter  work,  or  reading.  Late  dinner,  and  singing  or  chat  in 
the  evening.  Mathews  has  really  all  the  will,  as  well  as  the 
talent,  to  be  amusing.  He  confirms  my  idea  of  ventriloquism 
(which  is  an  absurd  word),  as  being  merely  the  art  of 
imitating  sounds  at  a  greater  or  less  distance,  assisted  by 
some  little  points  of  trick  to  influence  the  imagination  of 
the  audience — the  vulgar  idea  of  a  peculiar  organisation 
(beyond  fineness  of  ear  and  of  utterance)  is  nonsense. 

January  13. — Our  party  are  about  to  disperse — 

"  Like  youthful  steers  unyoked,  east,  north,  and  south."  2 
I  am  not  sorry,  being  one  of  those  whom  too  much  mirth 

1  MercJiant's  Tale,  lines  9706-8,  2  2  King   Henry  IV.,  Act  iv. 

slightly  altered.  Sc.  2. — j.  o.  L. 


80 


JOUKNAL. 


[JAN. 


always  inclines  to  sadness.  The  missing  so  many  of  my 
own  family,  together  with  the  serious  inconveniences  to 
which  I  have  been  exposed,  gave  me  at  present  a  desire 
to  be  alone.  The  Skenes  return  to  Edinburgh,  so  does 
Mr.  Scrope — item,  the  little  artist ;  Mathews  to  Newcastle ; 
his  son  to  Liverpool.  So  exeunt  omnes.1 

Mathews  assures  me  that  Sheridan  was  generally  very 
dull  in  society,  and  sate  sullen  and  silent,  swallowing  glass 
after  glass,  rather  a  hindrance  than  a  help.  But  there  was 
a  time  when  he  broke  out  with  a  resumption  of  what  had 
been  going  on,  done  with  great  force,  and  generally  attack- 
ing some  person  in  the  company,  or  some  opinion  which 
he  had  expressed.  I  never  saw  Sheridan  but  in  large 
parties.  He  had  a  Bardolph  countenance,  with  heavy 
features,  but  his  eye  possessed  the  most  distinguished 


1  "I  had  long  been  in  the  habit 
of  passing  the  Christmas  with  Sir 
Walter  in  the  country,  when  he 
had  great  pleasure  in  assembling 
what  he  called  'a  fireside  party," 
where  he  was  always  disposed  to 
indulge  in  the  free  and  unrestrained 
outpouring  of  his  cheerful  and  con- 
vivial disposition.  Upon  one  of 
these  occasions  the  Comedian 
Mathews  and  his  son  were  at 
Abbotsford,  and  most  entertaining 
they  were,  giving  us  a  full  display 
of  all  their  varied  powers  in  scenic 
representations,  narrations,  songs, 
ventriloquism,  and  frolic  of  every 
description,  as  well  as  a  string  of 
most  amusing  anecdote,  connected 
with  the  professional  adventures  of 
the  elder,  and  the  travels  of  the 
son,  who  seemed  as  much  a  genius 
as  his  father.  He  has  never  ap- 
peared on  the  stage,  although 
abundantly  fit  to  distinguish  him- 
self in  that  department,  but  has 
taken  to  the  profession  of  archi- 
tecture. Notwithstanding  that  the 
enow  lay  pretty  deep  on  the  ground 


Sir  Walter,  old  Mathews,  and  my- 
self set  out  with  the  deerhounds 
and  terriers  to  have  a  large  range 
through  the  woods  and  high 
grounds  ;  and  a  most  amusing  ex- 
cursion it  was,  from  the  difficulties 
which  Mathews,  unused  to  that 
sort  of  scrambling,  had  to  encounter, 
being  also  somewhat  lame  from  an 
accident  he  had  met  with  in  being 
thrown  out  of  a  gig, — the  good- 
humoured  manner  with  which  each 
of  my  two  lame  companions  strove 
to  get  over  the  bad  passes,  their 
jokes  upon  it,  alternately  shouting 
for  my  assistance  to  help  them 
through,  and  with  all  the  liveliness 
of  their  conversation,  as  every  anec- 
dote which  one  told  was  in  emula- 
tion tried  to  be  outdone  by  the 
other  by  some  incident  equally  if 
not  more  entertaining, — and  it  may 
be  well  supposed  that  the  healthful 
exercise  of  a  walk  of  this  descrip- 
tion disposed  every  one  to  enjoy 
the  festivity  which  was  to  close  the 
day." — Mr.  Skene's  Reminiscences. 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  81 

brilliancy.  Mathews  says  it  is  very  simple  in  Tom  Moore 
to  admire  how  Sheridan  came  by  the  means  of  paying  the 
price  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  when  all  the  world  knows 
he  never  paid  it  at  all;  and  that  Lacy,  who  sold  it,  was 
reduced  to  want  by  his  breach  of  faith.1  Dined  quiet  with 
Anne,  Lady  Scott,  and  Gordon. 

January  14. — An  odd  mysterious  letter  from  Constable, 
who  is  gone  post  to  London,  to  put  something  to  rights 
which  is  wrong  betwixt  them,  their  banker,  and  another 
moneyed  friend.  It  strikes  me  to  be  that  sort  of  letter 
which  I  have  seen  men  write  when  they  are  desirous  that 
their  disagreeable  intelligence  should  be  rather  apprehended 
than  avowed.  I  thought  he  had  been  in  London  a  fortnight 
ago,  disposing  of  property  to  meet  this  exigence,  and  so  I 
think  he  should.  Well,  I  must  have  patience.  But  these 
terrors  and  frights  are  truly  annoying.  Luckily  the  funny 
people  are  gone,  and  I  shall  not  have  the  task  of  grinning 
when  I  am  serious  enough.  Dined  as  yesterday. 

A  letter  from  J.  B.  mentioning  Constable's  journey,  but 
without  expressing  much,  if  any,  apprehension.  He  knows 
C.  well,  and  saw  him  before  his  departure,  and  makes  no 
doubt  of  his  being  able  easily  to  extricate  whatever  may 
be  entangled.  I  will  not,  therefore,  make  myself  uneasy. 
I  can  help  doing  so  surely,  if  I  will.  At  least,  I  have 
given  up  cigars  since  the  year  began,  and  have  now  no 
wish  to  return  to  the  habit,  as  it  is  called.  I  see  no 
reason  why  one  should  not  be  able  to  vanquish,  with  God's 
assistance,  these  noxious  thoughts  which  foretell  evil  but 
cannot  remedy  it. 

January  15. — Like  yesterday,  a  hard  frost.  Thermo- 
meter at  10;  water  in  my  dressing-room  frozen  to  flint; 
yet  I  had  a  fine  walk  yesterday,  the  sun  dancing  delight- 
fully on  "grim  Nature's  visage  hoar."2  Were  it  not  the 

1  See  Moore's  Life,  of  Sheridan,  vol.  i.  p.   191.     This  work  was  pub- 
lished late  in  1825. — J.  G.  L.  2  Burns's  Vision. — J.  G.  L. 


82  JOUKNAL.  [JAN. 

plague  of  being  dragged  along  by  another  person,  I  should 
like  such  weather  as  well  as  summer ;  but  having  Tom 
Purdie  to  do  this  office  reconciles  me  to  it.  /  cannot  cleik 
with  John,  as  old  Mrs.  Mure  [of  Caldwell]  used  to  say.  I 
mean,  that  an  ordinary  menial  servant  thus  hooked  to  your 
side  reminds  me  of  the  twin  bodies  mentioned  by  Pitscottie, 
being  two  trunks  on  the  same  waist  and  legs.  One  died 
before  the  other,  and  remained  a  dead  burden  on  the  back 
of  its  companion.1  Such  is  close  union  with  a  person  whom 
you  cannot  well  converse  with,  and  whose  presence  is  yet 
indispensable  to  your  getting  on.  An  actual  companion, 
whether  humble  or  your  equal,  is  still  worse.  But  Tom 
Purdie  is  just  the  thing,  kneaded  up  between  the  friend  and 
servant,  as  well  as  Uncle  Toby's  bowling-green  between 
sand  and  clay.  You  are  certain  he  is  proud  as  well  as 
patient  under  his  burthen,  and  you  are  under  no  more  con- 
straint than  with  a  pony.  I  must  ride  him  to-day  if  the 
weather  holds  up.  Meantime  I  will  correct  that  curious 
fellow  Pepys'  Diary, — I  mean  the  article  I  have  made  of  it 
for  the  Quarterly. 

Edinburgh,  January  1 6. — Came  through  cold  roads  to  as 
cold  news.  Hurst  and  Eobinson  have  suffered  a  bill  of  £1 000 
to  come  back  upon  Constable,  which  I  suppose  infers  the 
ruin  of  both  houses.  We  shall  soon  see.  Constable,  it  seems, 
who  was  to  have  set  off  in  the  last  week  of  December,  dawdled 
here  till  in  all  human  probability  his  going  or  staying 
became  a  matter  of  mighty  little  consequence.  He  could 
not  be  there  till  Monday  night,  and  his  resources  must  have 
come  too  late.  Dined  with  the  Skenes.2 

1  Lindsay's  Chronicles  of  Scotland       which  had  accordingly  been  com- 
2  vols.     Edin.  1814,  pp.  246-7.  plied  with  upon  the  present  occasion, 

and  I  never  had  seen  Sir  Walter  in 

2  Mr.  Skene  in  his  Reminiscences     better  spirits  or  more    agreeable, 
says: — "The  family  had  been  at  Ab-      The  fatal  intimation  of  his  bank- 
botsford,  and  it  had  long  been  their     ruptcy,  however,  awaited    him    at 
practice  the  day  they  came  to  town     home,   and  next  morning  early   I 
to  take  a  family  dinner  at  my  house,      was  surprised  by  a  verbal  message 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  83 

January  17. — James  Ballantyne  this  morning — good 
honest  fellow,  with  a  visage  as  black  as  the  crook.1  He 
hopes  no  salvation ;  has  indeed  taken  measures  to  stop.  It 
is  hard,  after  having  fought  such  a  battle.  Have  apolo- 
gised for  not  attending  the  Royal  Society  Club,  who  have  a 
gaudeamus  on  this  day,  and  seemed  to  count  much  on  my 
being  the  preses. 

My  old  acquaintance,  Miss  Elizabeth  Clerk,  sister  of 
"Willie,  died  suddenly.  I  cannot  choose  but  wish  it  had  been 
S.  W.  S.,  and  yet  the  feeling  is  unmanly.  I  have  Anne,  my 
wife,  and  Charles  to  look  after.  I  felt  rather  sneaking  as  I 
came  home  from  the  Parliament  House — felt  as  if  I  were 
liable  monstrari  digito  in  no  very  pleasant  way.  But  this 
must  be  borne  cum  caeteris ;  and,  thank  God,  however  un- 
comfortable, I  do  not  feel  despondent. 

I  have  seen  Cadell,  Ballantyne,  and  Hogarth.  All  advise 
me  to  execute  a  trust  of  my  property  for  payment  of  my 
obligations.  So  does  John  Gibson,2  and  so  I  resolve  to 
do.  My  wife  and  daughter  are  gloomy,  but  yet  patient. 
I  trust  by  my  hold  on  the  works  to  make  it  every  man's 
interest  to  be  very  gentle  with  me.  Cadell  makes  it 
plain  that  by  prudence  they  will,  in  six  months,  realise 

to  come  to  him  as  soon  as  I  had  got  1  Crook.      The   chain  and  hook 

up.     Fearful  that  he  had  got  a  fresh  hanging  from  the  crook-tree  over 

attack  of  the  complaint  from  which  the  fire  in  Scottish  cottages, 

he   had   now  for  some  years  been  2  [Sir  Walter's  private  law-agent.] 

free,  or  that  he  had  been  involved  Mr.     John    Gibson,    Junr. ,    W.S., 

in  some  quarrel,  I  went  to  see  him  Mr.    James  Jollie,  W.S.,  and  Mr. 

by  seven  o'clock,   and  found  him  Alexander  Monypenny,  W.S.,  were 

already  by  candle-light    seated  at  the  three  gentlemen  who  ultimately 

his   writing-table,    surrounded    by  agreed  to  take  charge,  as  trustees, 

papers  which  he    was  examining,  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's  affairs  ;  and 

holding  out  his  hand  to  me  as  I  certainly    no    gentlemen    ever  ac- 

eiitered,  he  said,  "  Skene,  this  is  the  quitted  themselves  of  such  an  office 

hand  of  a  beggar.      Constable  has  in  a  manner  more   honourable  to 

failed,  and  I  am  ruined  defond  en  themselves,  or  more  satisfactory  to 

comble.      It 's  a  hard  blow,  but  I  a  client  and  his  creditors. — J.  G.  L. 

must  just  bear  up  ;  the  only  thing  Mr.   Gibson  wrote  a  little  volume 

which  wrings  me  is  poor  Charlotte  of  Reminiscences  of  Scott,  which  was 

and  the  bairns."  published  in  1871.     This  old  friend 


84  JOURNAL.  [JAN. 

£20,000,  which  can  be  attainable  by  no  effort  of  their 
own. 

January  18. — He  that  sleeps  too  long  in  the  morning,  let 
him  borrow  the  pillow  of  a  debtor.  So  says  the  Spaniard, 
and  so  say  I.  I  had  of  course  an  indifferent  night  of  it.  I 
wish  these  two  days  were  over ;  but  the  worst  is  over.  The 
Bank  of  Scotland  has  behaved  very  well ;  expressing  a  re- 
solution to  serve  Constable's  house  and  me  to  the  uttermost ; 
but  as  no  one  can  say  to  what  extent  Hurst  and  Robinson's 
failure  may  go,  borrowing  would  but  linger  it  out. 

January  1 9. — During  yesterday  I  received  formal  visits 
from  my  friends,  Skene  and  Colin  Mackenzie  (who,  I  am 
glad  to  see,  looks  well),  with  every  offer  of  service.  The 
Royal  Bank  also  sent  Sir  John  Hope  and  Sir  Henry  Jardine1 
to  offer  to  comply  with  my  wishes.  The  Advocate  came  on 
the  same  errand.  But  I  gave  all  the  same  answer — that 
my  intention  was  to  put  the  whole  into  the  hands  of  a 
trustee,  and  to  be  contented  with  the  event,  and  that  all 
I  had  to  ask  was  time  to  do  so,  and  to  extricate  my  affairs. 
I  was  assured  of  every  accommodation  in  this  way.  From 
all  quarters  I  have  had  the  same  kindness.  Letters  from 
Constable  and  Robinson  have  arrived.  The  last  persist  in 
saying  they  will  pay  all  and  everybody.  They  say,  more- 
over, in  a  postscript,  that  had  Constable  been  in  town  ten 

died  in   1879.       "  In  the  month  of  he  should  execute  a  trust  convey  - 

January  1826,"    says  Mr.   Gibson,  ance  for  behoof  of  his  creditors. 

' '  Sir  Walter  called  upon  me,  and  The    latter  course  was    preferred 

explained  how  matters  stood  with  for  various  reasons,  but  chiefly  out 

the  two  houses  referred  to,  adding  of  regard  for  his  own  feeling."    He- 

that  he  himself  was  a  partner  in  one  miniscences,  p.   12.      See  entry  in 

of  them — that  bills  were  falling  due  Journal  under  Jan.  24. 
and  dishonoured — and  that    some 

immediate    arrangement    was   in-          1  Sir  John  Hope  of  Pinkie  and 

dispensably    necessary.      In    such  Craighall,  llth  Baronet ;  Sir  Henry 

circumstances,  only  two  modes  of  Jardine,  King's  Remembrancerf rom 

proceeding  could  be  thought    of —  1820  to  1837;  and  Sir  William  Rae, 

either  that  he  should  avail  himself  Lord  Advocate,  son  of  Lord  Esk- 

of  the  Bankrupt  Act,  and  allow  his  grove,   were   all    Directors  of  the 

estate  to  be  sequestrated,  or  that  Royal  Bank  of  Scotland. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  85 

days  sooner,  all  would  have  been  well.  When  I  saw  him 
on  24th  December,  he  proposed  starting  in  three  days,  but 
dallied,  God  knows  why,  in  a  kind  of  infatuation,  I  think, 
till  things  had  got  irretrievably  wrong.  There  would  have 
been  no  want  of  support  then,  and  his  stock  under  his  own 
management  would  have  made  a  return  immensely  greater 
than  it  can  under  any  other.  Now  I  fear  the  loss  must 
be  great,  as  his  fall  will  involve  many  of  the  country  dealers 
who  traded  with  him. 

I  feel  quite  composed  and  determined  to  labour.  There 
is  no  remedy.  I  guess  (as  Mathews  makes  his  Yankees 
say)  that  we  shall  not  be  troubled  with  visitors,  and  I 
calculate  that  I  will  not  go  out  at  all;  so  what  can  I  do 
better  than  labour  ?  Even  yesterday  I  went  about  making 
notes  on  Waverley,  according  to  Constable's  plan.  It  will 
do  good  one  day.  To-day,  when  I  lock  this  volume,  I  go 
to  W[oodstock].  Heigho ! 

Knight  came  to  stare  at  me  to  complete  his  portrait. 
He  must  have  read  a  tragic  page,  compared  to  what  he 
saw  at  Abbotsford.1 

We  dined  of  course  at  home,  and  before  and  after  dinner 
I  finished  about  twenty  printed  pages  of  Woodstock,  but  to 
what  effect  others  must  judge.  A  painful  scene  after  dinner, 
and  another  after  supper,  endeavouring  to  convince  these 
poor  dear  creatures  that  they  must  not  look  for  miracles, 
but  consider  the  misfortune  as  certain,  and  only  to  be 
lessened  by  patience  and  labour. 

January  20. — Indifferent  night — very  bilious,  which 
may  be  want  of  exercise.  A  letter  from  Sir  J.  Sinclair, 
whose  absurd  vanity  bids  him  thrust  his  finger  into  every 
man's  pie,  proposing  that  Hurst  and  Eobinson  should  sell 

1  John    Prescott    Knight,    the  eating  account  of  the  picture   and 

young    artist    referred     to,    after-  its  accidental    destruction  on  the 

wards  R.  A. ,  and  Secretary  to  the  very  day  pf   Sir   Walter's   death. 

Academy,  wrote   (in   1871)  to   Sir  Scott ExhibitionCatalogue,'lto, Edin. 

William  Stirling  Maxwell,  an  inter-  p.  199.     Mr.  Knight  died  in  1881. 


86  JOURNAL.  [JAN. 

their  prints,  of  which  he  says  they  have  a  large  collection, 
by  way  of  lottery  like  Boydell. 

"  In  scenes  like  these  which  break  our  heart 
Comes  Punch,  like  you  and " 

Mais  pourtant,  cultivons  noire  jardin.  The  public  favour  is 
my  only  lottery.  I  have  long  enjoyed  the  foremost  prize,  and 
something  in  my  breast  tells  me  my  evil  genius  will  not 
overwhelm  me  if  I  stand  by  myself.  Why  should  I  not  ? 
I  have  no  enemies — many  attached  friends.  The  popular 
ascendency  which  I  have  maintained  is  of  the  kind  which  is 
rather  improved  by  frequent  appearances  before  the  public. 
In  fact,  critics  may  say  what  they  will,  but  "hain  your 
reputation,  and  tyne  your  reputation,"  is  a  true  proverb.1 

Sir  William  Forbes  called — the  same  kind,  honest  friend 
as  ever,  with  all  offers  of  assistance,2  etc.  etc.  All  anxious 
to  serve  me,  and  careless  about  their  own  risk  of  loss.  And 
these  are  the  cold,  hard,  money-making  men  whose  ques- 
tions and  control  I  apprehended. 

Lord  Chief  Commissioner  Adam  also  came  to  see  me, 
and  the  meeting,  though  pleasing,  was  melancholy.  It  is 
the  first  time  we  have  met  since  the  break  up  of  his  hopes  in 
the  death  of  his  eldest  son  on  his  return  from  India,  where 
he  was  Chief  in  Council  and  highly  esteemed.3  The  Com- 
missioner is  not  a  very  early  friend  of  mine,  for  I  scarce 
knew  him  till  his  settlement  in  Scotland  with  his  present 
office.4  But  I  have  since  lived  much  with  him,  and  taken 

1  To  hain  anything  is,  Anglicd,  to          3  John  Adam,  Esq. ,  died  on  ship- 
deal    very    carefully,    penuriously  board    on  his  passage  homewards 
about  it — tyne,  to  lose.     Scott  of  ten  from   Calcutta,   4th  June   1825. — 
used  to  say  "  hain  a  pen  and  tyne  J.  G.  L. 

a  pen,"  which  is  nearer  the  proverb          4  The  Right  Hon.  W.  Adam  of 

alluded  to. — J.  G.  ii.  Blairadam,  born  in   1751.      When 

2  The  late  Sir  William  Forbes,  trial   by   Jury  in  civil  cases    was 
Baronet,  succeeded  his  father  (the  introduced  into  Scotland  in  1815, 
biographer  of  Beattie)  as  chief  of  he  was  made  Chief  Commissioner 
the  head  private  banking-house  in  of  the  Jury  Court,  which  office  he 
Edinburgh.     Scott's  amiable  friend  held  till  1830. 

died  24th  Oct.  1828.— J.  G.  L.  Mr.  Lockhart  adds  (Life,  vol.  v. 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  87 

kindly  to  him  as  one  of  the  most  pleasant,  kind-hearted, 
benevolent,  and  pleasing  men  I  have  ever  known.  It  is  high 
treason  among  the  Tories  to  express  regard  for  him,  or  re- 
spect for  the  Jury  Court  in  which  he  presides.  I  was  against 
that  experiment  as  much  as  any  one.  But  it  is  an  experi- 
ment, and  the  establishment  (which  the  fools  will  not 
perceive)  is  the  only  thing  which  I  see  likely  to  give  some 
prospects  of  ambition  to  our  bar,  which  has  been  otherwise 
so  much  diminished.  As  for  the  Chief  Commissioner,  I  dare 
say  he  jobs,  as  all  other  people  of  consequence  do,  in  elections, 
and  so  forth.  But  he  is  the  personal  friend  of  the  King,  and 
the  decided  enemy  of  whatever  strikes  at  the  constitutional 
rights  of  the  Monarch.  Besides,  I  love  him  for  the  various 
changes  which  he  has  endured  through  life,  and  which  have 
been  so  great  as  to  make  him  entitled  to  be  regarded  in  one 
point  of  view  as  the  most  fortunate — in  the  other,  the  most 
unfortunate — man  in  the  world.  He  has  gained  and  lost  two 
fortunes  by  the  same  good  luck,  and  the  same  rash  confidence, 
which  raised,  and  now  threatens,  mypeculium.  And  his  quiet, 
honourable,  and  generous  submission  under  circumstances 
more  painful  than  mine, — for  the  loss  of  world's  wealth  was 
to  him  aggravated  by  the  death  of  his  youngest  and  darling 
son  in  the  West  Indies, — furnished  me  at  the  time  and  now 
with  a  noble  example.  So  the  Tories  and  Whigs  may  go  be 
d — d  together,  as  names  that  have  disturbed  old  Scotland, 
and  torn  asunder  the  most  kindly  feelings  since  the  first 

day  they  were  invented.     Yes, them,  they  are  spells  to 

rouse  all  our  angry  passions,  and  I  dare  say,  notwithstand- 
ing the  opinion  of  my  private  and  calm  moments,  I  will 
open  on  the  cry  again  so  soon  as  something  occurs  to  chafe 

p.    46) :    "  This  most  amiable  and  feet  vigour  to  the  last  days  of  this 

venerable  gentleman,  my  dear  and  long  life,  and  with  them  all  the 

kind  friend,  died  at  Edinburgh,  on  warmth  of  social  feelings  which  had 

the  17th  February  1839,  in  the  89th  endeared  him  to  all  who  were  so 

year  of  his  age.     He  retained  his  happy  as  to  have  any  opportunity 

strong  mental  faculties  in  their  per-  of  knowing  him." 


88  JOUENAL.  [JAN. 

my  mood ;  and  yet,  God  knows,  I  would  fight  in  honour- 
able contest  with  word  or  blow  for  my  political  opinions ; 
but  I  cannot  permit  that  strife  to  "mix  its  waters  with 
my  daily  meal,"  those  waters  of  bitterness  which  poison  all 
mutual  love  and  confidence  betwixt  the  well-disposed  on 
either  side,  and  prevent  them,  if  need  were,  from  making 
mutual  concessions  and  balancing  the  constitution  against 
the  ultras  of  both  parties.  The  good  man  seems  something 
broken  by  these  afflictions. 

January  21. — Susannah  in  Tristram  Shandy  thinks  death 
is  best  met  in  bed.  I  am  sure  trouble  and  vexation  are  not. 
The  watches  of  the  night  pass  wearily  when  disturbed  by 
fruitless  regrets  and  disagreeable  anticipations.  But  let  it  pass. 

"  Well,  Goodman  Time,  or  blunt,  or  keen, 
Move  thou  quick,  or  take  thy  leisure, 
Longest  day  will  have  its  e'en, 
Weariest  life  but  treads  a  measure." 

I  have  seen  Cadell,  who  is  very  much  downcast  for  the 
risk  of  their  copyrights  being  thrown  away  by  a  hasty  sale. 
I  suggested  that  if  they  went  very  cheap,  some  means  might 
be  fallen  on  to  keep  up  their  value  or  purchase  them  in.  I 
fear  the  split  betwixt  Constable  and  Cadell  will  render  im- 
possible what  might  otherwise  be  hopeful  enough.  It  is  the 
Italian  race-horses,  I  think,  which,  instead  of  riders,  have 
spurs  tied  to  their  sides,  so  as  to  prick  them  into  a  constant 
gallop.  Cadell  tells  me  their  gross  profit  was  sometimes 
£10,000  a  year,  but  much  swallowed  up  with  expenses,  and 
his  partner's  draughts,  which  came  to  £4000  yearly.  What 
there  is  to  show  for  this,  God  knows.  Constable's  apparent 
expenses  were  very  much  within  bounds. 

Colin  Mackenzie  entered,  and  with  his  usual  kindness 
engages  to  use  his  influence  to  recommend  some  moderate 
proceeding  to  Constable's  creditors,  such  as  may  permit  him 
to  go  on  and  turn  that  species  of  property  to  account,  which 
no  man  alive  can  manage  so  well  as  he. 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  89 

Followed  Mr.  Gibson  with  a  most  melancholy  tale. 
Things  are  so  much  worse  with  Constable  than  I  appre- 
hended that  I  shall  neither  save  Abbotsford  nor  anything 
else.  Naked  we  entered  the  world,  and  naked  we  leave  it 
— blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord  ! 

Janiutry  22. — I  feel  neither  dishonoured  nor  broken 
down  by  the  bad — now  really  bad  news  I  have  received.  I 
have  walked  my  last  on  the  domains  I  have  planted — sate 
the  last  time  in  the  halls  I  have  built.  But  death  would 
have  taken  them  from  me  if  misfortune  had  spared  them. 
My  poor  people  whom  I  loved  so  well !  There  is  just 
another  die  to  turn  up  against  me  in  this  run  of  ill-luck ; 
i.e.  if  I  should  break  my  magic  wand  in  the  fall  from  this 
elephant,  and  lose  my  popularity  with  my  fortune.  Then 
Woodstock  and  Bony  may  both  go  to  the  paper-maker,  and 
I  may  take  to  smoking  cigars  and  drinking  grog,  or  turn 
devotee,  and  intoxicate  the  brain  another  way.  In  prospect 
of  absolute  ruin,  I  wonder  if  they  would  let  me  leave  the 
Court  of  Session.  I  would  like,  methinks,  to  go  abroad, 

"  And  lay  my  bones  far  from  the  Tweed." 

But  I  find  my  eyes  moistening,  and  that  will  not  do.  I 
will  not  yield  without  a  fight  for  it.  It  is  odd,  when  I  set 
myself  to  work  doggedly,  as  Dr.  Johnson  would  say,  I  am 
exactly  the  same  man  that  I  ever  was,  neither  low-spirited 
nor  distrait.  In  prosperous  times  I  have  sometimes  felt 
my  fancy  and  powers  of  language  flag,  but  adversity  is  to 
me  at  least  a  tonic  and  bracer ;  the  fountain  is  awakened 
from  its  inmost  recesses,  as  if  the  spirit  of  affliction  had 
troubled  it  in  his  passage. 

Poor  Mr.  Pole  the  harper  sent  to  offer  me  £500  or  £600, 
probably  his  all.1  There  is  much  good  in  the  world,  after 

i  Mr.  Pole  had  long  attended  Sir  accompanied  his  disasters. — J.  o.  L. 
Walter  Scott's  daughters  as  teacher  For  Mr.  Pole's  letter  see  Life, 
of  the  harp.  In  the  end  Scott  al-  vol.  viii.  p.  205.  Mr.  Pole  went 
ways  spoke  of  his  conduct  as  the  to  live  in  England  and  died  at  Ken- 
most  affecting  circumstance  that  sington. 


90  JOUENAL.  [JAN. 

all.  But  I  will  involve  no  friend,  either  rich  or  poor.  My 
own  right  hand  shall  do  it — else  will  I  be  done  in  the  slang 
language,  and  undone  in  common  parlance. 

I  am  glad  that,  beyond  my  own  family,  who  are,  except- 
ing L.  S.,  young  and  able  to  bear  sorrow,  of  which  this  is 
the  first  taste  to  some  of  them,  most  of  the  hearts  are  past 
aching  which  would  have  once  been  inconsolable  on  this 
occasion.  I  do  not  mean  that  many  will  not  seriously  regret, 
and  some  perhaps  lament,  my  misfortunes.  But  my  dear 
mother,  my  almost  sister,  Christy  Efutherforjd,1  poor  Will 
Erskine — these  would  have  been  mourners  indeed. 

"Well — exertion — exertion.  0  Invention,  rouse  thyself ! 
May  man  be  kind!  May  God  be  propitious!  The  worst 
is,  I  never  quite  know  when  I  am  right  or  wrong;  and 
Ballantyne,  who  does  know  in  some  degree,  will  fear  to  tell 
me.  Lockhart  would  be  worth  gold  just  now,  but  he  too 
would  be  too  diffident  to  speak  broad  out.  All  my  hope  is 
in  the  continued  indulgence  of  the  public.  I  have  a  funeral- 
letter  to  the  burial  of  the  Chevalier  Yelin,  a  foreigner  of 
learning  and  talent,  who  has  died  at  the  Eoyal  Hotel.  He 
wished  to  be  introduced  to  me,  and  was  to  have  read  a  paper 
before  the  Eoyal  Society  when  this  introduction  was  to  have 
taken  place.  I  was  not  at  the  Society  that  evening,  and  the 
poor  gentleman  was  taken  ill  at  the  meeting  and  unable  to 
proceed.  He  went  to  his  bed  and  never  rose  again ;  and  now 
his  funeral  will  be  the  first  public  place  I  shall  appear  at. 
He  dead,  and  I  ruined ;  this  is  what  you  call  a  meeting.2 

January  23. — Slept  ill,  not  having  been  abroad  these 
eight  days — splendida  bilis.  Then  a  dead  sleep  in  the 
morning,  and  when  the  awakening  comes,  a  strong  feeling 

1  Scott's    mother's    sister.       See  he  must  not  leave  Scotland  without 
Life,  vols.  i.,  iii.,  v.,  and  vi.  having  seen  the  great  bard  ;  and  he 

2  Chevalier    Yelin,    the    friend  prolonged  his  stay  in   Edinburgh 
and  travelling  companion  of  Baron  until  Scott's  return,  hoping  to  meet 
D'Eichthal,  was  a  native  of  Bavaria,  him  at  the  Royal  Society  on  this 
His  wife  had  told  him  playfully  that  evening. 


1826.] 


JOURNAL. 


91 


how  well  I  could  dispense  with  it  for  once  and  for  ever. 
This  passes  away,  however,  as  better  and  more  dutiful 
thoughts  arise  in  my  mind.  I  know  not  if  my  imagination 
has  flagged;  probably  it  has;  but  at  least  my  powers  of 
labour  have  not  diminished  during  the  last  melancholy  week. 
On  Monday  and  Tuesday  my  exertions  were  suspended. 
Since  Wednesday  inclusive  I  have  written  thirty-eight  of 
my  close  manuscript  pages,  of  which  seventy  make  a  volume 
of  the  usual  Novel  size. 

"Wrote  till  twelve  A.M.,  finishing  half  of  what  I  call  a 
good  day's  work — ten  pages  of  print,  or  rather  twelve.  Then 
walked  in  Princes  Street  pleasure-grounds  with  good 
Samaritan  James  Skene,  the  only  one  among  my  numer- 
ous friends  who  can  properly  be  termed  amicus  curarum 
mearum,  others  being  too  busy  or  too  gay,  and  several  being 
estranged  by  habit.1 


1  On  the  morning  of  this  day  Sir 
Walter  wrote  the  following  note  to 
his  friend : — 

"  DEAB  SKENE, — If  you  are  dis- 
posed for  a  walk  in  your  gardens 
any  time  this  morning,  I  would 
gladly  accompany  you  for  an  hour, 
since  keeping  the  house  so  long 
begins  rather  to  hurt  me,  and  you, 
who  supported  the  other  day  the 
weight  of  my  body,  are  perhaps  best 
disposed  to  endure  the  gloom  of  my 
mind. — Yours  ever,  W.  S. 

"  CASTLE  STREET,  23  January. 

' '  I  will  call  when  you  please  : 
all  hours  after  twelve  are  the  same 
to  me. " 

On  his  return  from  this  walk,  Mr. 
Skene  wrote  out  his  recollections 
of  the  conversation  that  had  taken 
place.  Of  his  power  to  rebuild  his 
shattered  fortunes,  Scott  said, "  'But 
woe's  me,  I  much  mistrust  my 
vigour,  for  the  best  of  my  energies 
are  already  expended.  You  have 


seen,  my  dear  Skene,  the  Roman 
coursers  urged  to  their  speed  by  a 
loaded  spur  attached  to  their  backs 
to  whet  the  rusty  metal  of  their 
age, — ay  !  it  is  a  leaden  spur  in- 
deed, and  it  goads  hard. ' 

"  I  added,  '  But  what  do  you 
think,  Scott,  of  the  bits  of  flaming 
paper  that  are  pasted  on  the  flanks 
of  the  poor  jades  ?  If  we  could  but 
stick  certain  small  documents  on 
your  back,  and  set  fire  to  them,  I 
think  you  might  submit  for  a  time 
to  the  pricking  of  the  spur.'  He 
laughed,  and  said,  '  Ay  !  Ay  I—- 
these weary  bills,  if  they  were  but 
as  the  thing  that  is  not — come, 
cheer  me  up  with  an  account  of  the 
Roman  Carnival.'  And,  accord- 
ingly, with  my  endeavour  to  do  so, 
he  seemed  as  much  interested  as  if 
nothing  had  happened  to  discom- 
pose the  usual  tenor  of  his  mind, 
but  still  our  conversation  ever  and 
anon  dropt  back  into  the  same  sub- 
ject, in  the  course  of  which  he 


92 


JOUKNAL. 


[JAN. 


The  walks  have  been  conducted  on  the  whole  with  much 
taste,  though  Skene  has  undergone  much  criticism,  the 
usual  reward  of  public  exertions,  on  account  of  his  plans. 
It  is  singular  to  walk  close  beneath  the  grim  old  Castle, 
and  to  think  what  scenes  it  must  have  seen,  and  how  many 
generations  of  three  score  and  ten  have  risen  and  passed 
away,  It  is  a  place  to  cure  one  of  too  much  sensation  ovei 
earthly  subjects  of  mutation.  My  wife  and  girl's  tongues 
are  chatting  in  a  lively  manner  in  the  drawing-room.  It 
does  me  good  to  hear  them. 

January  24. — Constable  came  yesterday,  and  saw  me  for 
half  an  hour.  He  seemed  irritable,  but  kept  his  temper 
under  command.  Was  a  little  shocked  when  I  intimated 
that  I  was  disposed  to  regard  the  present  works  in  progress 


said  to  me,  'Do  you  know  I  ex- 
perience a  sort  of  determined  plea- 
sure in  confronting  the  very  worst 
aspect  of  this  sudden  reverse, — in 
standing,  as  it  were,  in  the  breach 
that  has  overthrown  my  fortunes, 
and  saying,  Here  I  stand,  at  least 
an  honest  man.  And  God  knows, 
if  I  have  enemies,  this  I  may  at 
least  with  truth  say,  that  I  have 
never  wittingly  given  cause  of  en- 
mity in  the  whole  course  of  my  life, 
for  even  the  burnings  of  political 
hate  seemed  to  find  nothing  in  my 
nature  to  feed  the  flame.  I  am  not 
conscious  of  having  borne  a  grudge 
towards  any  man,  and  at  this 
moment  of  my  overthrow,  so  help 
me  God,  I  wish  well  and  feel  kindly 
to  every  one.  And  if  I  thought 
that  any  of  my  works  contained  a 
sentence  hurtful  to  any  one's  feel- 
ings, I  would  burn  it.  I  think  even 
my  novels  (for  he  did  not  disown 
any  of  them)  are  free  from  that 
blame.' 

"  He  had  been  led  to  make  this 
protestation  from  my  having  re- 
marked to  him  the  singularly 
general  feeling  of  goodwill  and 


sympathy  towards  him  which  every 
one  was  anxious  to  testify  upon  the 
present  occasion.  The  sentiments 
of  resignation  and  of  cheerful  ac- 
quiescence in  the  dispensation  of 
the  Almighty  which  he  expressed 
were  those  of  a  Christian  thankful 
for  the  blessings  left,  and  willing, 
without  ostentation,  to  do  his  best. 
It  was  really  beautiful  to  see  the 
workings  of  a  strong  and  upright 
mind  under  the  first  lash  of  adver- 
sity calmly  reposing  upon  the 
consolation  afforded  by  his  own 
integrity  and  manful  purposes. 
'  Lately, '  he  said, '  you  saw  me  under 
the  apprehension  of  the  decay  of 
my  mental  faculties,  and  I  confess 
that  I  was  under  mortal  fear  when 
I  found  myself  writing  one  word 
for  another,  and  misspelling  every 
word,  but  that  wore  off,  and  was 
perhaps  occasioned  by  the  effects 
of  the  medicine  I  had  been  taking, 
but  have  I  not  reason  to  be  thankful 
that  that  misfortune  did  not  assail 
me  ? — Ay  !  few  have  more  reason 
to  feel  grateful  to  the  Disposer  of  all 
events  than  I  have. ' " — Mr.  Skene' 8 
Reminiscences. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  93 

as  my  own.  I  think  I  saw  two  things: — (1)  That  he  is 
desirous  to  return  into  the  management  of  his  own  affairs 
without  Cadell,  if  he  can.  (2)  That  he  relies  on  my  con- 
nection as  the  way  of  helping  us  out  of  the  slough. 
Indeed  he  said  he  was  ruined  utterly  without  my  counte- 
nance. I  certainly  will  befriend  him  if  I  can,  but  Constable 
without  Cadell  is  like  getting  the  clock  without  the  pen- 
dulum— the  one  having  the  ingenuity,  the  other  the  caution 
of  the  business.  I  will  see  my  way  before  making  any 
bargain,  and  I  will  help  them,  I  am  sure,  if  I  can,  without 
endangering  my  last  cast  for  freedom.  Worked  out  my  task 
yesterday.  My  kind  friend  Mrs.  Coutts  has  got  the  cadet- 
ship  for  Pringle  Shortreed,  in  which  he  was  peculiarly 
interested. 

I  went  to  the  Court  for  the  first  time  to-day,  and,  like 
the  man  with  the  large  nose,  thought  everybody  was  think- 
ing of  me  and  my  mishaps.  Many  were,  undoubtedly,  and 
all  rather  regrettingly ;  some  obviously  affected.  It  is 
singular  to  see  the  difference  of  men's  manner  whilst  they 
strive  to  be  kind  or  civil  in  their  way  of  addressing  me. 
Some  smile  as  they  wish  me  good-day,  as  if  to  say,  "  Think 
nothing  about  it,  my  lad ;  it  is  quite  out  of  our  thoughts." 
Others  greeted  me  with  the  affected  gravity  which  one  sees 
and  despises  at  a  funeral.  The  best  bred — all,  I  believe, 
meaning  equally  well — just  shook  hands  and  went  on.  A 
foolish  puff  in  the  papers,  calling  on  men  and  gods  to  assist 
a  popular  author,  who,  having  choused  the  public  of  many 
thousands,  had  not  the  sense  to  keep  wealth  when  he  had 
it.  If  I  am  hard  pressed,  and  measures  used  against  me, 
I  must  use  all  means  of  legal  defence,  and  subscribe  myself 
bankrupt  in  a  petition  for  sequestration.  It  is  the  course 
I  would  have  advised  a  client  to  take,  and  would  have  the 
effect  of  saving  my  land,  which  is  secured  by  my  son's 
contract  of  marriage.  I  might  save  my  library,  etc.,  by 
assistance  of  friends,  and  bid  my  creditors  defiance.  But 


94  JOUBNAL.  [JAN. 

for  this  I  would,  in  a  court  of  honour,  deserve  to  lose  my 
spurs.  No,  if  they  permit  me,  I  will  be  their  vassal  for  life, 
and  dig  in  the  mine  of  my  imagination  to  find  diamonds  (or 
what  may  sell  for  such)  to  make  good  my  engagements,  not 
to  enrich  myself.  And  this  from  no  reluctance  to  allow 
myself  to  be  called  the  Insolvent,  which  I  probably  am,  but 
because  I  will  not  put  out  of  the  [power]  of  my  creditors 
the  resources,  mental  or  literary,  which  yet  remain  to  me. 

Went  to  the  funeral  of  Chevalier  Yelin,  the  literary 
foreigner  mentioned  on  22d.  How  many  and  how  various 
are  the  ways  of  affliction !  Here  is  this  poor  man  dying  at 
a  distance  from  home,  his  proud  heart  broken,  his  wife  and 
family  anxiously  expecting  letters,  and  doomed  only  to  learn 
they  have  lost  a  husband  and  father  for  ever.  He  lies 
buried  on  the  Calton  Hill,  near  learned  and  scientific  dust — 
the  graves  of  David  Hume  and  John  Playfair  being  side 
by  side. 

January  25. — Anne  is  ill  this  morning.  May  God  help 
us !  If  it  should  prove  serious,  as  I  have  known  it  in  such 
cases,  where  am  I  to  find  courage  or  comfort  ?  A  thought 
has  struck  me — Can  we  do  nothing  for  creditors  with  the 
goblin  drama,  called  Fortunes  of  Dewrgoil  ?  Could  it  not 
be  added  to  Woodstock  as  a  fourth  volume  ?  Terry  refused 
a  gift  of  it,  but  he  was  quite  and  entirely  wrong ;  it  is  not 
good,  but  it  may  be  made  so.  Poor  Will  Erskine  liked  it 
much.1  Gave  my  wife  her  £12  allowance.  £24  to  last  till 
Wednesday  fortnight. 

1  "The  energy  with  which  Sir  employment  served  to  occupy  his 
Walter  had  set  about  turning  his  mind,  and  prevent  its  brooding  over 
resources,  both  present  and  past,  to  the  misfortune  which  had  befallen 
immediate  account,  with  a  view  to  him,  and  joined  to  the  natural  con- 
prove  to  his  creditors,  with  as  little  tentedness  of  his  disposition  pre- 
delay  as  possible,  that  all  that  could  vented  any  approach  of  despond - 
depend  upon  himself  should  be  put  ency.  '  Here  is  an  old  effort  of 
in  operation  to  retrieve  his  affairs,  mine  to  compose  a  melo-drama ' 
made  him  often  reluctant  to  quit  (showing  me  one  day  a  bundle  of 
his  study  however  much  he  found  papers  which  he  had  found  in  his 
himself  exhausted.  However,  the  repositories).  'This  trifle  would 


1826.] 


JOUKNAL. 


95 


January  26. — Spoke  to  J.  B.  last  night  about  Devorgoil, 
who  does  not  seem  to  relish  the  proposal,  alleging  the  com- 
parative failure  of  Halidon  Hill.  Ay,  says  Self-Conceit, 
but  he  has  not  read  it ;  and  when  he  does,  it  is  the  sort  of 
wild  fanciful  work  betwixt  heaven  and  earth,  which  men  of 
solid  parts  do  not  estimate.  Pepys  thought  Shakespeare's 


have  been  long  ago  destroyed  had 
it  not  been  for  our  poor  friend 
Kiuuedder,  who  arrested  my  hand  as 
he  thought  it  not  bad,  and  for  his 
sake  it  was  kept.  I  have  just  read 
it  over,  and,  do  you  know,  with  some 
satisfaction.  Faith,  I  have  known 
many  worse  things  make  their  way 
very  well  in  the  world,  so,  God 
willing,  it  shall  e'en  see  the  light,  if 
it  can  do  aught  in  the  hour  of  need 
to  help  the  hand  that  fashioned  it. ' 
Upon  asking  the  name  of  this  pro- 
duction, he  said,  '  I  suspect  I  must 
change  it,  having  already  fore- 
stalled it  by  the  Fortunes  of  Nigel. 
I  had  called  it  the  Fortunes  of  De- 
vorgoil, but  we  must  not  begin  to 
double  up  in  that  way,  for  if  you 
leave  anything  hanging  loose,  you 
may  be  sure  that  some  malicious 
devil  will  tug  at  it.  I  think  I  shall 
call  it  The  Doom  of  Devorgoil.  It 
will  make  a  volume  of  itself,  and  I 
do  not  see  why  it  should  not  come 
out  by  particular  desire  as  a  fourth 
volume  to  Woodstock.  They  have 
some  sort  of  connection,  and  it 
would  not  be  a  difficult  matter  to 
bind  the  connection  a  little  closer. 
As  the  market  goes,  I  have  no  doubt 
of  the  Bibliopolist  pronouncing  it 
worth  £1000,  or  £1500.'  I  asked 
him  if  he  meant  it  for  the  stage. 
'No,  no ;  the  stage  is  a  sorry  job,  that 
course  will  not  do  for  these  hard 
days ;  besides,  there  is  too  much 
machinery  in  the  piece  for  the 
stage. '  I  observed  that  I  was  not 
sure  of  that,  for  pageant  and 


machinery  was  the  order  of  the 
day,  and  had  Shakespeare  been  of 
this  date  he  might  have  been  left 
to  die  a  deer-stealer.  '  Well,  then, 
with  all  my  heart,  if  they  can  get 
the  beast  to  lead  or  to  drive,  they 
may  bring  it  on  the  stage  if  they 
like.  It  is  a  sort  of  goblin  tale, 
and  so  was  the  Castk  Spectre,  which 
had  its  run.'  I  asked  him  if  the 
Castle  Spectre  had  yielded  Lewis 
much.  'Little  of  that,  in  fact  to  its 
author  absolutely  nothing,  and  yet 
its  merits  ought  to  have  brought 
something  handsome  to  poor  Mat. 
But  Sheridan,  then  manager,  you 
know,  generally  paid  jokes  instead 
of  cash,  and  the  joke  that  poor  Mat 
got  was,  after  all,  not  a  bad  one. 
Have  you  heard  it  ?  Don't  let  me 
tell  you  a  story  you  know.'  As  I 
had  not  heard  it,  he  proceeded. 
'  Well,  they  were  disputing  about 
something,  and  Lewis  had  clenched 
his  argument  by  proposing  to  lay  a 
•  bet  about  it.  I  shall  lay  what  you 
ought  long  ago  to  have  paid  me  for 
my  Castle  Spectre.  "  No,  no,  Mat," 
said  Sheridan,  "I  never  lay  large 
bets ;  but  come,  I  will  bet  a  trifle 
with  you — I  '11  bet  what  the  Castle 
Spectre  was  worth."  Now  Con- 
stable managed  differently  ;  he  paid 
well  and  promptly,  but  devil  take 
him,  it  was  all  spectral  together. 
Moonshine  and  no  merriment.  He 
sowed  my  field  with  one  hand,  and 
as  liberally  scattered  the  tares  with 
the  other.'" — Mr.  Scene's  Remini- 
scences. 


96  JOUENAL.  [JAN. 

Midsummer  Night's  Dream  the  most  silly  play  he  had  ever 
seen,  and  Pepys  was  probably  judging  on  the  same  grounds 
with  J.  B.,  though  presumptuous  enough  to  form  conclusions 
against  a  very  different  work  from  any  of  mine.  How  if  I 
send  it  to  Lockhart  by  and  by  ? 

I  called  to-day  at  Constable's  ;  both  partners  seemed 
secure  that  Hurst  and  Eobinson  were  to  go  on  and  pay. 
Strange  that  they  should  have  stopped.  Constable  very 
anxious  to  have  husbanding  of  the  books.  I  told  him  the 
truth  that  I  would  be  glad  to  have  his  assistance,  and  that 
he  should  have  the  benefit  of  the  agency,  but  that  he  was 
not  to  consider  past  transactions  as  a  rule  for  selling  them  in 
future,  since  I  must  needs  make  the  most  out  of  the  labours 
I  could  :  item,  that  I,  or  whoever  might  act  for  me,  would  of 
course,  after  what  has  happened,  look  especially  to  the 
security.  He  said  if  Hurst  and  Robinson  were  to  go  on, 
bank  notes  would  be  laid  down.  I  conceive  indeed  that 
they  would  take  Woodstock  and  Napoleon  almost  at  loss 
rather  than  break  the  connection  in  the  public  eye.  Sir 
William  Arbuthnot  and  Mr.  Kinnear  were  very  kind.  But 
cui  bono  ? 1 

Gibson  comes  with  a  joyful  face  announcing  all  the 
creditors  had  unanimously  agreed  to  a  private  trust.  This 
is  handsome  and  confidential,  and  must  warm  my  best 
efforts  to  get  them  out  of  the  scrape.  I  will  not  doubt 
— to  doubt  is  to  lose.  Sir  William  Forbes  took  the  chair, 
and  behaved  as  he  has  ever  done,  with  the  generosity  of 
ancient  faith  and  early  friendship.  They 2  are  deeper  con- 
cerned than  most.  In  what  scenes  have  Sir  William  and 
I  not  borne  share  together — desperate,  and  almost  bloody 
affrays,  rivalries,  deep  drinking-matches,  and,  finally,  with 
the  kindest  feelings  on  both  sides,  somewhat  separated 

1  These  two  gentlemen  were  at         2  Sir  W.  Forbes  and  Co.  's  Banking 
this  time  Directors  of  the  Bank  of     House. 
Scotland. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  97 

by  his  retiring  much  within  the  bosom  of  his  family,  and 
I  moving  little  beyond  mine.  It  is  fated  our  planets 
should  cross  though,  and  that  at  the  periods  most  interest- 
ing for  me.  Down — down — a  hundred  thoughts. 

Jane  Eussell  drank  tea  with  us. 

I  hope  to  sleep  better  to-night.  If  I  do  not  I  shall  get 
ill,  and  then  I  cannot  keep  my  engagements.  Is  it  not  odd  ? 
I  can  command  my  eyes  to  be  awake  when  toil  and  weari- 
ness sit  on  my  eyelids,  but  to  draw  the  curtain  of  oblivion  is 
beyond  my  power.  I  remember  some  of  the  wild  Buccaneers, 
in  their  impiety,  succeeded  pretty  well  by  shutting  hatches 
and  burning  brimstone  and  assafcetida  in  making  a  tolerable 
imitation  of  hell — but  the  pirates'  heaven  was  a  wretched 
affair.  It  is  one  of  the  worst  things  about  this  system  of 
ours,  that  it  is  a  hundred  times  more  easy  to  inflict  pain 
than  to  create  pleasure. 

January  27. — Slept  better  and  less  bilious,  owing  doubt- 
less to  the  fatigue  of  the  preceding  night,  and  the  more 
comfortable  news.  I  drew  my  salaries  of  various  kinds 
amounting  to  £300  and  upwards  and  sent,  with  John  Gibson's 
consent,  £200  to  pay  off  things  at  Abbotsford  which  must 
be  paid.  "Wrote  Laidlaw  with  the  money,  directing  him 
to  make  all  preparations  for  reduction.1  Anne  ill  of  rheu- 


i  An  extract  from  what  is  pro-  But  Kaeside,  I  hope,  will  still  be 

bably  the  letter  to  Laidlaw  written  your  residence,  and  I  will  have  the 

on  this  day  was  printed  in  advantage  of  your  company  and 

Chambers's  Journal  for  July  1845.  advice,  and  probably  your  service 

The  italics  are  the  editor's  : —  as  amanuensis.  Observe,  I  am  not 

"For  you,  my  dear  friend,  we  in  indigence,  though  no  longer  in 

must  part — -.that  is,  as  laird  and  affluence,  and  if  I  am  to  exert  my- 

factor — and  it  rejoices  me  to  think  self  in  the  common  behalf,  I  must 

that  your  patience  and  endurance,  have  honourable  and  easy  means  of 

which  set  me  so  good  an  example,  life,  although  it  will  be  my  iuclina- 

are  like  to  bring  round  better  days,  tion  to  observe  the  most  strict 

You  never  flattered  my  prosperity,  privacy,  the  better  to  save  expense, 

and  in  my  adversity  it  is  not  the  and  also  time.  Lady  Scott's  spirits 

least  painful  consideration  that  I  were  affected  at  first,  but  she  is 

cannot  any  longer  be  useful  to  you.  getting  better.  For  myself,  I  feel 

G 


98  JOUENAL.  [JAN. 

inatism :  I  believe  caught  cold  by  vexation  and  exposing 
herself  to  bad  weather. 

The  Celtic  Society  present  me  with  the  most  splendid 
broadsword  I  ever  saw  ;  a  beautiful  piece  of  art,  and  a 
most  noble  weapon.  Honourable  Mr.  Stuart  (second 
son  of  the  Earl  of  Moray),  General  Graham  Stirling,  and 
MacDougal,  attended  as  a  committee  to  present  it.  This 
was  very  kind  of  my  friends  the  Celts,  with  whom  I  have 
had  so  many  merry  meetings.  It  will  be  a  rare  legacy  to 
Walter ; — for  myself,  good  lack !  it  is  like  Lady  Dowager 
Don's  prize  in  a  lottery  of  hardware ;  she — a  venerable  lady 
who  always  wore  a  haunch-hoop,  silk  neglige,  and  triple 
ruffles  at  the  elbow — having  the  luck  to  gain  a  pair  of  silver 
spurs  and  a  whip  to  correspond. 

Janizary  28. — Ballantyne  and  Cadell  wish  that  Mr.  Alex. 
Cowan  should  be  Constable's  Trustee  instead  of  J.  B.'s. 
Gibson  is  determined  to  hold  by  Cowan.  I  will  not  inter- 
fere, although  I  think  Cowan's  services  might  do  us  more 
good  as  Constable's  Trustee  than  as  our  own,  but  I  will  not 
begin  with  thwarting  the  managers  of  my  affairs,  or  even 
exerting  strong  influence ;  it  is  not  fair.  These  last  four  or 
five  days  I  have  wrought  little ;  to-day  I  set  on  the  steam 
and  ply  my  paddles. 

January  29. — The  proofs  of  vol.  i.1  came  so  thick  in 
yesterday  that  much  was  not  done.  But  I  began  to  be  hard 
at  work  to-day,  and  must  not  gurnalise  much. 

Mr.  Jollie,  who  is  to  be  my  trustee,  in  conjunction  with 
Gibson,  came  to  see  me ; — a  pleasant  and  good-humoured 
man,  and  has  high  reputation  as  a  man  of  business.  I  told 
him,  and  I  will  keep  my  word,  that  he  would  at  least  have 

like  the  Eildon   Hills — quite  firm,  satisfied   much    is    vanity,   if    not 

though  a  little  cloudy,  vexation  of  spirit.     What  can  I  say 

"  I  do  not  dislike  the  path  which  more,  except  that  I  will  write  to 

lies  before  me.     I  have  seen  all  that  you  the  instant  I  know  what  is  to 

society  can  show,  and  enjoyed  all  be  done." 

that  wealth  can  give  me,  and  I  am  l  Life  of  Bonaparte.  (?) 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  99 

no  trouble  by  my  interfering  and  thwarting  their  manage- 
ment, which  is  the  not  unfrequent  case  of  trusters  and 
trustees.1 

Constable's  business  seems  unintelligible.  No  man 
thought  the  house  worth  less  than  £150,000.  Constable 
told  me  when  he  was  making  his  will  that  he  was  worth 
£80,000.  Great  profits  on  almost  all  the  adventures.  No 
bad  speculations — yet  neither  stock  nor  debt  to  show:  Con- 
stable might  have  eaten  up  his  share  ;  but  Cadell  was  very 
frugal.  No  doubt  trading  almost  entirely  on  accommodation 
is  dreadfully  expensive.2 

January  30. — False  delicacy.  Mr.  Gibson,  Mr.  Cowan, 
Mr.  J.  B.,  were  with  me  last  night  to  talk  over  important 
matters,  and  suggest  an  individual  for  a  certain  highly  con- 
fidential situation.  I  was  led  to  mention  a  person  of  whom 
I  knew  nothing  but  that  he  was  an  honest  and  intelligent 
man.  All  seemed  to  acquiesce,  and  agreed  to  move  the  thing 
to  the  party  concerned  this  morning,  and  so  Mr.  G.  and 
Mr.  C.  left  me,  when  J.  B.  let  out  that  it  was  their  unanimous 
opinion  that  we  should  be  in  great  trouble  were  the  indi- 
vidual appointed,  from  faults  of  temper,  etc.,  which  would 
make  it  difficult  to  get  on  with  him.  With  a  hearty  curse 
I  hurried  J.  B.  to  let  them  know  that  I  had  no  partiality  for 
the  man  whatever,  and  only  named  him  because  he  had  been 
proposed  for  a  similar  situation  elsewhere.  This  is  pro- 
voking enough,  that  they  would  let  me  embarrass  my 

1  "  In   the    management  of    his  Ballautyne  and  Co.,  was  held  re- 
Trust,"     Mr.      Gibson     remarks,  sponsible  for  about  £130,000; — this 
' '  everything  went  on  harmoniously  large  sum  was  ultimately  paid  in  full 
— the  chief  labour  devolving  upon  by   Scott  and  his  representatives, 
myself,  but  my  co-Trustees  giving  The   other    two    firms  paid   their 
their  valuable  aid  and  advice  when  creditors  about  10  per  cent,  of  the 
required." — Reminiscences,  p.  16.  amounts  due.     It  must  be  kept  in 

mind,  however,  as  far  as  Constable's 

2  The  total  liabilities  of  the  three     house  was    concerned,  that    their 
firms  amounted  in  round  numbers     property    appears    to    have    been 
to    nearly  half-a-million    sterling,      foolishly  sacrificed  by  forced  sales 
Sir    Walter,    as    the    partner    of     of  copyrights  and  stock. 


100  JOUENAL.  [JAN.  1826. 

affairs  with  a  bad  man  (an  unfit  one,  I  mean)  rather  than 
contradict  me.     I  dare  say  great  men  are  often  used  so. 

I  laboured  freely  yesterday.  The  stream  rose  fast — if 
clearly,  is  another  question ;  but  there  is  bulk  for  it,  at  least 
— about  thirty  printed  pages. 

"  And  now  again,  boys,  to  the  oar." 

January  31. — There  being  nothing  in  the  roll  to-day, 
I  stay  at  home  from  the  Court,  and  add  another  day's 
perfect  labour  to  Woodstock,  which  is  worth  five  days  of 
snatched  intervals,  when  the  current  of  thought  and  invention 
is  broken  in  upon,  and  the  mind  shaken  and  diverted  from  its 
purpose  by  a  succession  of  petty  interruptions.  I  have  now 
no  pecuniary  provisions  to  embarrass  me,  and  I  think,  now 
the  shock  of  the  discovery  is  past  and  over,  I  am  much 
better  off  on  the  whole ;  I  am  as  if  I  had  shaken  off  from 
my  shoulders  a  great  mass  of  garments,  rich,  indeed,  but 
cumbrous,  and  always  more  a  burden  than  a  comfort.  I  am 
free  of  an  hundred  petty  public  duties  imposed  on  me  as  a 
man  of  consideration — of  the  expense  of  a  great  hospitality 
— and,  what  is  better,  of  the  great  waste  of  time  connected 
with  it.  I  have  known,  in  my  day,  all  kinds  of  society,  and 
can  pretty  well  estimate  how  much  or  how  little  one  loses 
by  retiring  from  all  but  that  which  is  very  intimate.  I 
sleep  and  eat,  and  work  as  I  was  wont ;  and  if  I  could  see 
those  about  me  as  indifferent  to  the  loss  of  rank  as  I  am, 
I  should  be  completely  happy.  As  it  is,  Time  must  salve 
that  sore,  and  to  Time  I  trust  it. 

Since  the  1 4th  of  this  month  no  guest  has  broken  bread 
in  my  house  save  G.  H.  Gordon l  one  morning  at  breakfast. 
This  happened  never  before  since  I  had  a  house  of  my  own. 
But  I  have  played  Abou  Hassan  long  enough ;  and  if  the 
Caliph  came  I  would  turn  him  back  again. 

1  Mr    Gordon  was  at  this  time     is    to  say,   the    MS.    for    press. — 
Scott's  amanuensis  ;  he  copied,  that     J.  G.  L. 


FEBRUARY. 

February  1. — A  most  generous  letter  (though  not  more 
so  than  I  expected)  from  Walter  and  Jane,  offering  to  inter- 
pose with  their  fortune,  etc.  God  Almighty  forbid !  that 
were  too  unnatural  in  me  to  accept,  though  dutiful  and 
affectionate  in  them  to  offer.  They  talk  of  India  still. 
With  my  damaged  fortune  I  cannot  help  them  to  remain  by 
exchange,  and  so  forth.  He  expects,  if  they  go,  to  go  out 
eldest  Captain,  when,  by  staying  two  or  three  years,  he  will 
get  the  step  of  Major.  His  whole  thoughts  are  with  his 
profession,  and  I  understand  that  when  you  quit  or  exchange, 
when  a  regiment  goes  on  distant  or  disagreeable  service, 
you  are  not  accounted  as  serious  in  your  profession;  God 
send  what  is  for  the  best !  Remitted  Charles  a  bill  for  £40 
— £35  advance  at  Christmas  makes  £75.  He  must  be 
frugal. 

Attended  the  Court,  and  saw  J.  B.  and  Cadell  as  I  re- 
turned. Both  very  gloomy.  Came  home  to  work,  etc., 
about  two. 

February  2. — An  odd  visit  this  morning  from  Miss  Jane 
Bell  of  North  Shields,  whose  law-suit  with  a  Methodist 
parson  of  the  name  of  Hill  made  some  noise.  The  worthy 
divine  had  in  the  basest  manner  interfered  to  prevent  this 
lady's  marriage  by  two  anonymous  letters,  in  which  he 
contrived  to  refer  the  lover,  to  whom  they  were  addressed, 
for  further  corroboration  to  himself.  The  whole  imposi- 
tion makes  the  subject  of  a  little  pamphlet  published  by 
Marshall,  Newcastle.  The  lady  ventured  for  redress  into 

the  thicket  of  English  law — lost  one  suit — gained  another, 

101 


102  JOUKNAL.  [FEB. 

with  £300  damages,  and  was  ruined.  The  appearance 
and  person  of  Miss  Bell  are  prepossessing.  She  is  about 
thirty  years  old,  a  brunette,  with  regular  and  pleasing 
features,  marked  with  melancholy, — an  enthusiast  in  litera- 
ture, and  probably  in  religion.  She  had  been  at  Abbots- 
ford  to  see  me,  and  made  her  way  to  me  here,  in  the 
vain  hope  that  she  could  get  her  story  worked  up  into  a 
novel ;  and  certainly  the  thing  is  capable  of  interesting 
situations.  It  throws  a  curious  light  upon  the  aristocratic 
or  rather  hieratic  influence  exercised  by  the  Methodist 
preachers  within  the  connection,  as  it  is  called.  Admirable 
food  this  would  be  for  the  Quarterly,  or  any  other  reviewers 
who  might  desire  to  feed  fat  their  grudge  against  these 
sectarians.  But  there  are  two  reasons  against  such  a  publi- 
cation. First,  it  would  do  the  poor  sufferer  no  good. 
Secondly,  it  might  hurt  the  Methodistic  connection  very 
much,  which  I  for  one  would  not  like  to  injure.  They  have 
their  faults,  and  are  peculiarly  liable  to  those  of  hypocrisy, 
and  spiritual  ambition,  and  priestcraft.  On  the  other  hand, 
they  do  infinite  good,  carrying  religion  into  classes  in  society 
where  it  would  scarce  be  found  to  penetrate,  did  it  rely 
merely  upon  proof  of  its  doctrines,  upon  calm  reasoning, 
and  upon  rational  argument.  Methodists  add  a  powerful 
appeal  to  the  feelings  and  passions ;  and  though  I  believe 
this  is  often  exaggerated  into  absolute  enthusiasm,  yet 
I  consider  upon  the  whole  they  do  much  to  keep  alive  a 
sense  of  religion,  and  the  practice  of  morality  necessarily 
connected  with  it.  It  is  much  to  the  discredit  of  the 
Methodist  clergy,  that  when  this  calumniator  was  actually 
convicted  of  guilt  morally  worse  than  many  men  are  hanged 
for,  they  only  degraded  him  from  the  first  to  the  second  class 
of  their  preachers, — leaving  a  man  who  from  mere  hatred  at 
Miss  Bell's  brother,  who  was  a  preacher  like  himself,  had 
proceeded  in  such  a  deep  and  infamous  scheme  to  ruin  the 
character  and  destroy  the  happiness  of  an  innocent  person, 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  103 

in  possession  of  the  pulpit,  and  an  authorised  teacher  of 
others.  If  they  believed  him  innocent  they  did  too  much — 
if  guilty,  far  too  little.1 

I  wrote  to  my  nephew  Walter  to-day,  cautioning  him 
against  a  little  disposition  which  he  has  to  satire  or  m&hancetJ, 
which  may  be  a  great  stumbling-block  in  his  course  in  life. 
Otherwise  I  presage  well  of  him.  He  is  lieutenant  of  en- 
gineers, with  high  character  for  mathematical  science — is 
acute,  very  well-mannered,  and,  I  think,  good-hearted.  He 
has  seen  enough  of  the  world  too,  to  regulate  his  own 
course  through  life,  better  than  most  lads  at  his  age. 

February  3. — This  is  the  first  morning  since  my  troubles 
that  I  felt  at  awaking 

"  I  had  drunken  deep 
Of  all  the  blessedness  of  sleep."  2 

I  made  not  the  slightest  pause,  nor  dreamed  a  single 
dream,  nor  even  changed  my  side.  This  is  a  blessing  to  be 
grateful  for.  There  is  to  be  a  meeting  of  the  creditors  to- 
day, but  I  care  not  for  the  issue.  If  they  drag  me  into  the 
Court,  obtorto  collo,  instead  of  going  into  this  scheme  of 
arrangement,  they  would  do  themsel'~:s  a  great  injury,  and, 
perhaps,  eventually  do  me  good,  though  it  would  give  me 
much  pain.  James  Ballantyne  is  severely  critical  on  what 
he  calls  imitations  of  Mrs.  Eadcliffe  in  Woodstock.  Many 
will  think  with  him,  yet  I  am  of  opinion  he  is  quite  wrong, 
or,  as  friend  J.  F[errier]  says,  vrong.3  In  the  first  place,  I  am 
to  look  on  the  mere  fact  of  another  author  having  treated 
a  subject  happily  as  a  bird  looks  on  a  potato-bogle  which 
scares  it  away  from  a  field  otherwise  as  free  to  its  depreda- 
tions as  any  one's  else  !  In  2d  place,  I  have  taken  a  wide 

1  The  Cause  of  Truth  defended,  2  Coleridge's  Christabel,  Part  u. 

etc.     Two  Trials  of  the  Rev.  T.  3  James    Ferrier,     one    of    the 

Hill,  Methodist  Preacher,  for  de-  Clerks  of  Session, — the   father  of 

famation  of  the  character  of  Miss  the  authoress  of  Marriage,  The  In- 

Bell,   etc.    etc.      8vo.      Hull    and  heritance,  and  Destiny.    Mr.  Ferrier 

London,  1827.  was  born  in  1744,  and  died  in  1829. 


104  JOURNAL.  [FEB. 

difference :  my  object  is  not  to  excite  fear  of  supernatural 
things  in  my  reader,  but  to  show  the  effect  of  such  fear 
upon  the  agents  in  the  story — one  a  man  of  sense  and 
firmness — one  a  man  unhinged  by  remorse — one  a  stupid 
uninquiring  clown — one  a  learned  and  worthy,  but  super- 
stitious divine.  In  the  third  place,  the  book  turns  on  this 
hinge,  and  cannot  want  it.  But  I  will  try  to  insinuate  the 
refutation  of  Aldiboronti's  exception  into  the  prefatory 
matter. 

From  the  19th  January  to  the  2d  February  inclusive  is 
exactly  fifteen  days,  during  which  time,  with  the  interven- 
tion of  some  days'  idleness,  to  let  imagination  brood  on  the 
task  a  little,  I  have  written  a  volume.  I  think,  for  a  bet,  I 
could  have  done  it  in  ten  days.  Then  I  must  have  had  no 
Court  of  Session  to  take  me  up  two  or  three  hours  every  morn- 
ing, and  dissipate  my  attention  and  powers  of  working  for 
the  rest  of  the  day.  A  volume,  at  cheapest,  is  worth 
£1000.  This  is  working  at  the  rate  of  £24,000  a  year; 
but  then  we  must  not  bake  buns  faster  than  people  have 
appetite  to  eat  them.  They  are  not  essential  to  the  market, 
like  potatoes. 

John  Gibson  came  to  tell  me  in  the  evening  that  a 
meeting  to-day  had  approved  of  the  proposed  trust.  I  know 
not  why,  but  the  news  gives  me  little  concern.  I  heard  it 
as  a  party  indifferent.  I  remember  hearing  that  Mandrin l 
testified  some  horror  when  he  found  himself  bound  alive  on 
the  wheel,  and  saw  an  executioner  approach  with  a  bar  of 
iron  to  break  his  limbs.  After  the  second  and  third  blow 
he  fell  a-laughing,  and  being  asked  the  reason  by  his  con- 
fessor, said  he  laughed  at  his  own  folly  which  had  antici- 
pated increased  agony  at  every  blow,  when  it  was  obvious 

1  "  Authentic  Memoirs  of  the  re-  stood  in  defiance  of  the  whole  army 

markable  Life  and  surprising  Ex-  of  France, "  etc.     8vo,  Lond.  1755. 

ploits  of  Mandrin,  Cap  tain -General  See  Waverley  Novels,  vol.  xxxvii. 

of  the  French  Smugglers,  who  for  p.  434,  Note. — J.  G.  L. 
the  space  of  nine  months  resolutely 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  105 

that  the  first  must  have  jarred  and  confounded  the  system 
of  the  nerves  so  much  as  to  render  the  succeeding  blows  of 
little  consequence.  I  suppose  it  is  so  with  the  moral 
feelings ;  at  least  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  be  anxious 
whether  these  matters  were  settled  one  way  or  another. 

February  4. — Wrote  to  Mr.  Laidlaw  to  come  to  town  upon 
Monday  and  see  the  trustees.  To  farm  or  not  to  farm,  that 
is  the  question.  With  our  careless  habits,  it  were  best,  I 
think,  to  risk  as  little  as  possible.  Lady  Scott  will  not 
exceed  with  ready  money  in  her  hand ;  but  calculating  on 
the  produce  of  a  farm  is  different,  and  neither  she  nor  I  are 
capable  of  that  minute  economy.  Two  cows  should  be  all 
we  should  keep.  But  I  find  Lady  S.  inclines  much  for 
the  four.  If  she  had  her  youthful  activity,  and  could 
manage  things,  it  would  be  well,  and  would  amuse  her. 
But  I  fear  it  is  too  late  a  week. 

Returned  from  Court  by  Constable's,  and  found  Cadell 
had  fled  to  the  sanctuary,  being  threatened  with  ultimate 
diligence  by  the  Bank  of  Scotland.  If  this  be  a  vindictive 
movement,  it  is  harsh,  useless,  and  bad  of  them,  and 
flight,  on  the  contrary,  .seems  no  good  sign  on  his  part.  I 
hope  he  won't  prove  his  father  or  grandfather  at  Preston- 
pans  : — 

"  Cadell  dressed  among  the  rest, 

Wi'  gun  and  good  claymore,  man, 
On  gelding  grey  he  rode  that  day, 

Wi'  pistols  set  before,  man. 
The  cause  was  gude,  he  'd  spend  his  blude 

Before  that  he  would  yield,  man, 
But  the  night  before  he  left  the  corps, 

And  never  faced  the  field,  man." l 

Harden  and  Mrs.  Scott  called  on  Mamma.  I  was  abroad. 
Henry  called  on  me.  Wrote  only  two  pages  (of  manu- 
script) and  a  half  to-day.  As  the  boatswain  said,  one  can't 

1  See  Tranent  Muir  by  Skirving. 


106  JOURNAL.  [FEB. 

dance  always  nowther,  but,  were  we  sure  of  the  quality  of 
the  stuff,  what  opportunities  for  labour  does  this  same  system 
of  retreat  afford  us !  I  am  convinced  that  in  three  years  I 
could  do  more  than  in  the  last  ten,  but  for  the  mine  being, 
I  fear,  exhausted.  Give  me  my  popularity — an  awful  postu- 
late ! — and  all  my  present  difficulties  shall  be  a  joke  in  five 
years ;  and  it  is  not  lost  yet,  at  least. 

February  5. — Rose  after  a  sound  sleep,  and  here  am  I 
without  bile  or  anything  to  perturb  my  inward  man.  It  is 
just  about  three  weeks  since  so  great  a  change  took  place  in 
my  relations  in  society,  and  already  I  am  indifferent  to  it. 
But  I  have  been  always  told  my  feelings  of  joy  and  sorrow, 
pleasure  and  pain,  enjoyment  and  privation,  are  much  colder 
than  those  of  other  people. 

"  I  think  the  Komans  call  it  stoicism." * 

Missie  was  in  the  drawing-room,  and  overheard  William 
Clerk  and  me  laughing  excessively  at  some  foolery  or  other 
in  the  back-room,  to  her  no  small  surprise,  which  she  did 
not  keep  to  herself.  But  do  people  suppose  that  he  was  less 
sorry  for  his  poor  sister,2  or  I  for  my  lost  fortune  ?  If  I 
have  a  very  strong  passion  in  the  world,  it  is  pride,  and  that 
never  hinged  upon  world's  gear,  which  was  always  with  me 
— Light  come,  light  go. 

February  6. — Letters  received  yesterday  from  Lord 
Montagu,  John  Morritt,  and  Mrs.  Hughes — kind  and  dear 
friends  all — with  solicitous  inquiries.  But  it  is  very  tire- 
some to  tell  my  story  over  again,  and  I  really  hope  I  have 
few  more  friends  intimate  enough  to  ask  me  for  it.  I  dread 
letter-writing,  and  envy  the  old  hermit  of  Prague,  who 
never  saw  pen  or  ink.  What  then?  One  must  write;  it 
is  a  part  of  the  law  we  live  on.  Talking  of  writing,  I 
finished  my  six  pages,  neat  and  handsome,  yesterday.  N.B. 
At  night  I  fell  asleep,  and  the  oil  dropped  from  the  lamp 

1  Addison,  Cato,  i.  4.  2  See  p.  83. 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  107 

upon  my  manuscript.     Will  this  extreme  unction  make  it 
go  smoothly  down  with  the  public  ? 

Thus  idly  we  "  profane  the  sacred  time  " 
By  silly  prose,  light  jest,  and  lighter  rhyme.* 

1  have  a  song  to  write,  too,  and  I  am  not  thinking  of  it. 
I  trust  it  will  come  upon  me  at  once — a  sort  of  catch  it 
should  be.2  I  walked  out,  feeling  a  little  overwrought. 
Saw  Constable  and  turned  over  Clarendon.  Cadell  not  yet 
out  of  hiding.  This  is  simple  work.  Obliged  to  borrow 
£240,  to  be  refunded  in  spring,  from  John  Gibson,  to  pay 
my  nephew's  outfit  and  passage  to  Bombay.  I  wish  I 
could  have  got  this  money  otherwise,  but  I  must  not  let 
the  orphan  boy,  and  such  a  clever  fellow,  miscarry  through 
my  fault.  His  education,  etc.,  has  been  at  my  expense 
ever  since  he  came  from  America. 

February  7. — Had  letters  yesterday  from  Lady  Davy 
and  Lady  Louisa  Stuart,3  two  very  different  persons.  Lady 
Davy,  daughter  and  co-heiress  of  a  wealthy  Antigua  mer- 
chant, has  been  known  to  me  all  my  life.  Her  father  was  a 
relation  of  ours  of  a  Scotch  calculation.  He  was  of  a  good 
family,  Kerr  of  Bloodielaws,  but  decayed.  Miss  Jane  Kerr 
married  first  Mr.  Apreece,  son  of  a  Welsh  Baronet.  The 
match  was  not  happy.  I  had  lost  all  acquaintance  with  her 
for  a  long  time,  when  about  twenty  years  ago  we  renewed  it 
in  London.  She  was  then  a  widow,  gay,  clever,  and  most 
actively  ambitious  to  play  a  distinguished  part  in  London 
society.  Her  fortune,  though  handsome  and  easy,  was  not 
large  enough  to  make  way  by  dint  of  showy  entertainments, 
and  so  forth.  So  she  took  the  Hue  line,  and  by  great  tact  and 
management  actually  established  herself  as  a  leader  of  liter- 
ary fashion.  Soon  after,  she  visited  Edinburgh  for  a  season 

1  Variation  from  2  Henry  IV.,  3  Lady  Louisa  Stuart,  youngest 
Act  II.  Sc.  4.  daughter  of   John,   third  Earl   of 

2  See  "Glee  for  King  Charles,"  Bute,  and  grand-daughter  of  Lady 
Waverley  Novels,  vol.  xl.  p.  40.  —  Mary  Wortley  Montagu. 

.T.  o.L. 


108  JOUKNAL.  [FEB. 

or  .two,  and  studied  the  Northern  Lights.  One  of  the  best 
of  them,  poor  Jack  Playfair,1  was  disposed  "  to  shoot  madly 
from  his  sphere," 2  and,  I  believe,  asked  her,  but  he  was  a 
little  too  old.  She  found  a  fitter  husband  in  every  respect 
in  Sir  Humphry  Davy,  to  whom  she  gave  a  handsome 
fortune,  and  whose  splendid  talents  and  situation  as  Presi- 
dent of  the  Eoyal  Society  gave  her  naturally  a  distinguished 
place  in  the  literary  society  of  the  Metropolis.  Now  this  is 
a  very  curious  instance  of  an  active-minded  woman  forcing 
her  way  to  the  point  from  which  she  seemed  furthest  ex- 
cluded. For,  though  clever  and  even  witty,  she  had  no 
peculiar  accomplishment,  and  certainly  no  good  taste  either 
for  science  or  letters  naturally.  I  was  once  in  the  Hebrides 
with  her,  and  I  admired  to  observe  how  amidst  sea-sickness, 
fatigue,  some  danger,  and  a  good  deal  of  indifference  as  to 
what  she  saw,  she  gallantly  maintained  her  determination 
to  see  everything.3  It  marked  her  strength  of  character,  and 
she  joined  to  it  much  tact,  and  always  addressed  people  on 
the  right  side.  So  she  stands  high,  and  deservedly  so,  for  to 
these  active  qualities,  more  French  I  think  than  English, 
and  partaking  of  the  Creole  vivacity  and  suppleness  of 
character,  she  adds,  I  believe,  honourable  principles  and  an 
excellent  heart.  As  a  lion-catcher,  I  could  pit  her  against 
the  world.  She  flung  her  lasso  (see  Hall's  South  America) 
over  Byron  himself.  But  then,  poor  soul,  she  is  not  happy. 
She  has  a  temper,  and  Davy  has  a  temper,  and  these  tempers 
are  not  one  temper,  but  two  tempers,  and  they  quarrel  like 

1  The  well-known  Mathematician     Playfair  died  in  1819  in  his  seventy - 
and  Natural  Philosopher.    Professor     second  year. 

Have  you  seen  the  famed  Bas  bleu,  the  gentle  dame  Apreece, 
Who  at  a  glance  shot  through  and  through  the  Scots  Review, 

And  changed  its  swans  to  geese  ? 

Playfair  forgot  his  mathematics,  astronomy,  and  hydrostatics, 
And  in  her  presence  often  swore,  he  knew  not  two  and  two  made  four. 

[Squib  of  1811.) 

2  See  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,     — See  Life,  Chapter  xxi.  vol.   iii. 
Act  n.  Sc.  2.  p.  271. 

3  This  journey  was  made  in  1810. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  109 

cat  and  dog,  which  may  be  good  for  stirring  up  the  stagna- 
tion of  domestic  life,  but  they  let  the  world  see  it,  and  that 
is  not  so  well.  Now  in  all  this  I  may  be  thought  a  little 
harsh  on  my  friend,  but  it  is  between  my  Grurnal  and  me, 
and,  moreover,  I  would  cry  heartily  if  anything  were  to  ail 
my  little  cousin,  though  she  be  addicted  to  rule  the  Cerulean 
atmosphere.1  Then  I  suspect  the  cares  of  this  as  well  as 
other  empires  overbalance  its  pleasures.  There  must  be 
difficulty  in  being  always  in  the  right  humour  to  hold  a 
court.  There  are  usurpers  to  be  encountered,  and  insur- 
rections to  be  put  down,  an  incessant  troop,  biensdances  to 
be  discharged,  a  sort  of  etiquette  which  is  the  curse  of  all 
courts.  An  old  lion  cannot  get  hamstrung  quietly  at  four 
hundred  miles  distance,  but  the  Empress  must  send  him  her 
condolence  and  a  pot  of  lipsalve.  To  be  sure  the  monster 
is  consanguinean,  as  Sir  Toby  says.2 

Looked  in  at  Constable's  coming  home ;  Cadell  emerged 
from  Alsatia ;  borrowed  Clarendon.  Home  by  half-past  twelve. 

My  old  friend  Sir  Peter  Murray  3  called  to  offer  his  own 
assistance,  Lord  Justice-Clerk's,  and  Abercromby's,  to  nego- 
tiate for  me  a  seat  upon  the  Bench  [of  the  Court  of  Session] 
instead  of  my  Sheriffdom  and  Clerkship.  I  explained  to 
him  the  use  which  I  could  make  of  my  pen  was  not,  I 
thought,  consistent  with  that  situation;  and  that,  besides, 
I  had  neglected  the  law  too  long  to  permit  me  to  think 
of  it;  but  this  was  kindly  and  honourably  done.  I  can 
see  people  think  me  much  worse  off  than  I  think  myself. 
They  may  be  right ;  but  I  will  not  be  beat  till  I  have  tried 
a  rally,  and  a  bold  one. 

February  8. — Slept  ill,  and  rather  bilious  in  the  morn- 
ing. Many  of  the  Bench  now  are  my  juniors.  I  will  not 

1  Lady  Davy  survived    her  dis-  3  Sir  Patrick  Murray  of  Ochter- 
tinguished  husband  for  more  than  tyre,  then  a  baron  of  the  Court  of 
a  quarter  of  a  century  ;  she  died  in  Exchequer  in  Scotland  ;  he  died  in 
London,  May  1855.  June  1837. 

2  Twelfth  Kight,  Act  ir.  Sc.  3. 


110  JOUENAL.  [FEE. 

seek  ex  eleemosynd  a  place  which,  had  I  turned  my  studies 
that  way,  I  might  have  aspired  to  long  ago  ex  meritis.  My 
pen  should  do  much  better  for  me  than  the  odd  £1000 
a  year.  If  it  fails,  I  will  lean  on  what  they  leave  me. 
Another  chance  might  be,  if  it  fails,  in  the  patronage  which 
might,  after  a  year  or  two,  place  me  in  Exchequer.  But  I  do 
not  count  on  this  unless,  indeed,  the  D[uke]  of  B[uccleuch], 
when  he  comes  of  age,  should  choose  to  make  play. 

Got  to  my  work  again,  and  wrote  easier  than  the  two 
last  days. 

Mr.  Laidlaw1  came  in  from  Abbotsford  and  dined  with 
us.  We  spent  the  evening  in  laying  down  plans  for  the 
farm,  and  deciding  whom  we  should  keep  and  whom  dismiss 
among  the  people.  This  we  did  on  the  true  negro-driving 
principle  of  self-interest,  the  only  principle  I  know  which 
never  swerves  from  its  objects.  We  chose  all  the  active,  young, 
and  powerful  men,  turning  old  age  and  infirmity  adrift,  I 
cannot  help  this,  for  a  guinea  cannot  do  the  work  of  five ; 
but  I  will  contrive  to  make  it  easier  to  the  sufferers. 

February  9. — A  stormy  morning,  lowering  and  blustering, 
like  our  fortunes.  Mea  virtute  me  involve.  But  I  must  say 
to  the  Muse  of  fiction,  as  the  Earl  of  Pembroke  said  to  the 
ejected  nuns  of  Wilton,  "Go  spin,  you  jades,  go  spin!" 
Perhaps  she  has  no  tow  on  her  rock?  When  I  was  at  Kilkenny 
last  year  we  went  to  see  a  nunnery,  but  could  not  converse 

1  This  cherished  and  confidential  up  from  Scott's  observation,  years 

friend  had  been  living  at  Kaeside  after  this  period  [1792],  of  a  family, 

from  1817,  and  acting  as  steward  on  with  one  of  whose  members  he  had, 

the  estate.     Mr.  Laidlaw  died  in  through  the  best  part  of  his  life,  a 

Ross-shire  in  1845.  close  and  affectionate  connection. 

Mr.  Lockhart  says,  "I  have  the  To  those  who  were  familiar  with 

best  reason  to  believe  that  the  kind  him,  I  have  perhaps  already  sufli- 

and    manly    character    of    Dandie  ciently  indicated  the  early  home  of 

[Dinmont  in  Guy  Mamiering],  the  his  dear  friend,  William  Laidlaw." 

gentle  and  delicious  one  of  his  wife,  Life,  vol.  i.  p.  268.    See  also  vol.  ii. 

and    some    at    least    of    the   most  p.  59 ;  v.  pp.  210-15,  251  ;  vii.  p. 

picturesque    peculiarities    of     the  168  ;  viii.  p.  68,  etc. 

menage,  at  Charlieshope  were  filled  2  Flax  on  her  distaff. 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  Ill 

with  the  sisters  because  they  were  in  strict  retreat.  I  was 
delighted  with  the  red-nosed  Padre,  who  showed  us  the  place 
with  a  sort  of  proud,  unctuous  humiliation,  and  apparent 
dereliction  of  the  world,  that  had  to  me  the  air  of  a  complete 
Tartuffe ;  a  strong,  sanguine,  square-shouldered  son  of  the 
Church,  whom  a  Protestant  would  be  apt  to  warrant  against 
any  sufferings  he  was  like  to  sustain  by  privation.  My  pur- 
pose, however,  just  now  was  to  talk  of  the  "  strict  retreat," 
which  did  not  prevent  the  nuns  from  walking  in  their  little 
garden,  breviary  in  hand,  peeping  at  us,  and  allowing  us  to 
peep  at  them.  Well,  now,  we  are  in  strict  retreat ;  and  if  we 
had  been  so  last  year,  instead  of  gallivanting  to  Ireland,  this 
affair  might  not  have  befallen — if  literary  labour  could  have 
prevented  it.  But  who  could  have  suspected  Constable's 
timbers  to  have  been  rotten  from  the  beginning  ? 

Visited  the  Exhibition  on  my  way  home  from  the  Court. 
The  new  rooms  are  most  splendid,  and  several  good  pictures. 
The  Institution  has  subsisted  but  five  years,  and  it  is 
astonishing  how  much  superior  the  worst  of  the  present 
collection  are  to  the  teaboard-looking  things  which  first 
appeared.  John  Thomson,  of  Duddingston,  has  far  the  finest 
picture  in  the  Exhibition,  of  a  large  size — subject  Dunluce,  a 
ruinous  castle  of  the  Antrim  family,  near  the  Giant's 
Causeway,  with  one  of  those  terrible  seas  and  skies  which 
only  Thomson  can  paint.  Found  Scrope  there  improving  a 
picture  of  his  own,  an  Italian  scene  in  Calabria.  He  is,  I 
think,  greatly  improved,  and  one  of  the  very  best  amateur 
painters  I  ever  saw — Sir  George  Beaumont  scarcely  excepted. 
Yet,  hang  it,  /  do  except  Sir  George. 

I  would  not  write  to-day  after  I  came  home.  I  will  not 
say  could  not,  for  it  is  not  true ;  but  I  was  lazy ;  felt  the 
desire  far  niente,  which  is  the  sign  of  one's  mind  being  at 
ease.  I  read  The  English  in  Italy*  which  is  a  clever  book. 

1  The  English  in  Italy,  3  vols.,  Lond.  1825,  ascribed  to  the  Marquis  of 
Normanby. 


112  JOURNAL.  [FEB. 

Byron  used  to  kick  and  frisk  more  contemptuously  against 
the  literary  gravity  and  slang  than  any  one  I  ever  knew  who 
had  climbed  so  high.  Then,  it  is  true,  I  never  knew  any  one 
climb  so  high ;  and  before  you  despise  the  eminence,  carrying 
people  along  with  you,  as  convinced  that  you  are  not  playing 
the  fox  and  the  grapes,  you  must  be  at  the  top.  Moore  told 
me  some  delightful  stories  of  him.  One  was  that  while  they 
stood  at  the  window  of  Byron's  Palazzo  in  Venice,  looking  at 
a  beautiful  sunset,  Moore  was  naturally  led  to  say  something 
of  its  beauty,  when  Byron  answered  in  a  tone  that  I 
can  easily  conceive,  "  Oh !  come,  d — n  me,  Tom,  don't  be 
poetical."  Another  time,  standing  with  Moore  on  the  balcony 
of  the  same  Palazzo,  a  gondola  passed  with  two  English 
gentlemen,  who  were  easily  distinguished  by  their  appearance. 
They  cast  a  careless  look  at  the  balcony  and  went  on. 
Byron  crossed  his  arms,  and  half  stooping  over  the  balcony 
said,  "Ah!  d — n  ye,  if  ye  had  known  what  two  fellows 
you  were  staring  at,  you  would  have  taken  a  longer  look 
at  us."  This  was  the  man,  quaint,  capricious,  and  playful, 
with  all  his  immense  genius.  He  wrote  from  impulse, 
never  from  effort;  and  therefore  I  have  always  reckoned 
Burns  and  Byron  the  most  genuine  poetical  geniuses  of 
my  time,  and  half  a  century  before  me.  We  have,  how- 
ever, many  men  of  high  poetical  talent,  but  none,  I  think, 
of  that  ever-gushing  and  perennial  fountain  of  natural 
water. 

Mr.  Laidlaw  dined  with  us.  Says  Mr.  Gibson  told  him 
he  would  dispose  of  my  affairs,  were  it  any  but  S.  W.  S.1  No 
doubt,  so  should  I,  and  am  wellnigh  doing  so  at  any  rate. 
But,  fortuna  juvante  I  much  may  be  achieved.  At  worst, 

1  "  S.  W.  S."     Scott,  in.  writing  sheep  on  the  estate  with  a  large 

of  himself,  often  uses  these  three  letter  "S"  in  addition  to  the  owner's 

letters  in  playful  allusion  to  a  freak  initials,  W.S.,  which,  according  to 

of  his  trusty  henchman  Tom  Purdie,  custom,  had  already  been  stamped 

who,  in  his  joy  on  hearing  of  the  on  their  backs, 
baronetcy,  proceeded  to  mark  every 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  113 

the  prospect  is  not  very  discouraging  to  one  who  wants 
little.     Methinks  I  have  been  like  Burns's  poor  labourer, 

"  So  constantly  in  Euin's  sight, 
The  view  o't  gives  me  little  fright." 

[Edinburgh,]  February  10. — Went  through,  for  a  new  day, 
the  task  of  buttoning,  which  seems  to  me  somehow  to  fill  up 
more  of  my  morning  than  usual — not,  certainly,  that  such 
is  really  the  case,  but  that  my  mind  attends  to  the  process, 
having  so  little  left  to  hope  or  fear.  The  half  hour  between 
waking  and  rising  has  all  my  life  proved  propitious  to  any 
task  which  was  exercising  my  invention.1  "When  I  get  over 
any  knotty  difficulty  in  a  story,  or  have  had  in  former  times 
to  fill  up  a  passage  in  a  poem,  it  was  always  when  I  first 
opened  my  eyes  that  the  desired  ideas  thronged  upon  me. 
This  is  so  much  the  case  that  I  am  in  the  habit  of  relying 
upon  it,  and  saying  to  myself,  when  I  am  at  a  loss,  "  Never 
mind,  we  shall  have  it  at  seven  o'clock  to-morrow  morning." 
If  I  have  forgot  a  circumstance,  or  a  name,  or  a  copy  of 
verses,  it  is  the  same  thing.  There  is  a  passage  about  this 
sort  of  matutinal  inspiration  in  the  Odyssey,2  which  would 

1  Moore  also  felt  that  the  morning  ' '  In  the  Odyssey  there  are  two 
was  his  happiest  time  for  work,  but  such  visions  which  turn  out  to  be 
he  preferred  "composing"  in  bed!  realities: — that    of  Nausicaa,   Bk. 
He  says  somewhere  that  he  would  vi.  20,   etc.,  and  that  of  Penelope, 
have  passed  half  his  days  in  bed  for  Bk.  xix.   535,  etc.     In  the  former 
the  purpose  of  composition  had  he  case  we  are  told  that  the  vision 
not  found  it  too  relaxing.  occurred  just  before  dawn  ;  1.  48-49, 

Macaulay,  too,  when  engaged  in  aMna.  5'  'HU)j  ?j\0ev,    '  straightway 

his  History,  was  in  the  habit  of  writ-  came  the  Dawn,'  etc.    In  the  latter, 

ing    three   hours   before  breakfast  there  is  no  special  mention  of  the 

daily.  hour.     The  vision,  however,  is  said 

2  I    am    assured    by    Professor  to  be  not  a  dream,  but  a  true  vision 
Butcher    that    there  is     no    such  which  shall  be  accomplished   (547, 
passage  in  the  Odyssey,  but  he  sug-  otf/c  t>vap  d\\'    tiirap    f<r6\bv,    8    rot 
gests  ' '  that  what  Scott  had  in  his  Tere\effiJ.evov  ZffTtu). 

mind  was  merely  the  Greek  idea  of          "Such  passages  as  these,  which 

a  waking  vision  being  a  true  one.  are  frequent  in   Greek  literature, 

They  spoke  of  it  as  a  iJirap  opposed  might  easily  have  given  rise  to  the 

to  an  Svap,  a  mere  dream.    These  notion  of  a  '  matutinal  inspiration,' 

waking  visions  are  usually  said  to  of  which  Scott  speaks. " 
be  seen  towards  morning. 


114  JOUENAL.  [FEB. 

make  a  handsome  figure  here  if  I  could  read  or  write  Greek. 
I  will  look  into  Pope  for  it,  who,  ten  to  one,  will  not  tell 
me  the  real  translation.  I  think  the  first  hour  of  the  morn- 
ing is  also  favourable  to  the  bodily  strength.  Among  other 
feats,  when  I  was  a  young  man,  I  was  able  at  times  to  lift  a 
smith's  anvil  with  one  hand,  by  what  is  called  the  horn,  or 
projecting  piece  of  iron  on  which  things  are  beaten  to  turn 
them  round.  But  I  could  only  do  this  before  breakfast, 
and  shortly  after  rising.  It  required  my  full  strength, 
undiminished  by  the  least  exertion,  and  those  who  choose 
to  try  it  will  find  the  feat  no  easy  one.  This  morning  I 
had  some  good  ideas  respecting  Woodstock  which  will  make 
the  story  better.  The  devil  of  a  difficulty  is,  that  one  puzzles 
the  skein  in  order  to  excite  curiosity,  and  then  cannot 
disentangle  it  for  the  satisfaction  of  the  prying  fiend  they 
have  raised.  A  letter  from  Sir  James  Mackintosh  of  con- 
dolence, prettily  expressed,  and  which  may  be  sung  to  the  old 
tune  of  "Welcome,  welcome,  brother  Debtor."  A  brother 
son  of  chivalry  dismounted  by  mischance  is  sure  to  excite 
the  compassion  of  one  laid  on  the  arena  before  him. 

Yesterday  I  had  an  anecdote  from  old  Sir  James  Steuart 
Denham,1  which  is  worth  writing  down.  His  uncle, 
Lord  Elcho,  was,  as  is  well  known,  engaged  in  the  affair 
of  1745.  He  was  dissatisfied  with  the  conduct  of  matters 
from  beginning  to  end.  But  after  the  left  wing  of  the 
Highlanders  was  repulsed  and  broken  at  Culloden,  Elcho 
rode  up  to  the  Chevalier  and  told  him  all  was  lost,  and  that 
nothing  remained  except  to  charge  at  the  head  of  two 
thousand  men,  who  were  still  unbroken,  and  either  turn  the 
fate  of  the  day  or  die  sword  in  hand,  as  became  his  pre- 

1  General  Sir  James  Steuart  doubt  acquainted  with  "  Lady  Mary 
Denham  of  Coltness,  Baronet,  Wortley  Montagu's  Letters"  ad- 
Colonel  of  the  Scots  Greys.  His  dressed  to  him  and  his  wife,  Lady 
father,  the  celebrated  political  Frances. — J.  G.  L.  See  also  Mrs. 
economist,  took  part  in  the  Re-  Calderwood's  Letters,  8vo.  Edin. 
bellion  of  1745,  and  was  long  after-  1884.  Sir  James  died  in  1839. 
wards  an  exile.  The  reader  is  no 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  115 

tensions.  The  Chevalier  gave  him  some  evasive  answer, 
and,  turning  his  horse's  head,  rode  off  the  field.  Lord  Elcho 
called  after  him  (I  write  the  very  words),  "  There  you  go  for 
a  damned  cowardly  Italian,"  and  never  would  see  him 
again,  though  he  lost  his  property  and  remained  an  exile  in 
the  cause.  Lord  Elcho  left  two  copies  of  his  memoirs,  one 
with  Sir  James  Steuart's  family,  one  with  Lord  Wemyss. 
This  is  better  evidence  than  the  romance  of  Chevalier 
Johnstone ;  and  I  have  little  doubt  it  is  true.  Yet  it  is 
no  proof  of  the  Prince's  cowardice,  though  it  shows  him 
to  have  been  no  John  of  Gaunt.  Princes  are  constantly 
surrounded  with  people  who  hold  up  their  own  life,  and 
safety  to  them  as  by  far  the  most  important  stake  in  any 
contest;  and  this  is  a  doctrine  in  which  conviction  is 
easily  received.  Such  an  eminent  person  finds  everybody's 
advice,  save  here  and  there  that  of  a  desperate  Elcho. 
recommend  obedience  to  the  natural  instinct  of  self- 
preservation,  which  very  often  men  of  inferior  situations 
find  it  difficult  to  combat,  when  all  the  world  are  crying 
to  them  to  get  on  and  be  damned,  instead  of  encouraging 
them  to  run  away.  At  Prestonpans  the  Chevalier  offered 
to  lead  the  van,  and  he  was  with  the  second  line,  which, 
during  that  brief  affair,  followed  the  first  very  close. 
Johnstone's  own  account,  carefully  read,  brings  him  within 
a  pistol-shot  of  the  first  line.  At  the  same  time,  Charles 
Edward  had  not  a  head  or  heart  for  great  things,  notwith- 
standing his  daring  adventure;  and  the  Irish  officers,  by 
whom  he  was  guided,  were  poor  creatures.  Lord  George 
Murray  was  the  soul  of  the  undertaking.1 

February  11. — Court  sat  till  half-past  one.     I  had  but 

1  "  Had    Prince     Charles     slept  reason  for  supposing  he  would  have 

during    the  whole  of    the  expedi-  found  the  crown  of  Great  Britain 

tion, "    says    the    Chevalier    John-  on  his  head   when    he    awoke." — • 

stone,   "and  allowed  Lord  George  Memoirs  of  the  Rebellion  of  1745, 

Murray  to  act  for  him  according  to  etc.     4to,   p.    140.     London,    1810. 

his  own  judgment,  there  is  every  — j.  o.  L. 


116  JOUKNAL.  [FEB. 

a  trifle  to  do,  so  wrote  letters  to  Mrs.  Maclean  Clephane 
and  nephew  Walter.  Sent  the  last,  £40  in  addition  to 
£240  sent  on  the  6th,  making  his  full  equipment  £280.  A 
man,  calling  himself  Charles  Gray  of  Carse,  wrote  to  me, 
expressing  sympathy  for  my  misfortunes,  and  offering  me 
half  the  profits  of  what,  if  I  understand  him  right,  is  a 
patent  medicine,  to  which  I  suppose  he  expects  me  to  stand 
trumpeter.  He  endeavours  to  get  over  my  objections  to 
accepting  his  liberality  (supposing  me  to  entertain  them)  by 
assuring  me  his  conduct  is  founded  on  a  sage  selfishness. 
This  is  diverting  enough.  I  suppose  the  Commissioners  of 
Police  will  next  send  me  a  letter  of  condolence,  begging  my 
acceptance  of  a  broom,  a  shovel,  and  a  scavenger's  great- 
coat, and  assuring  me  that  they  had  appointed  me  to  all  the 
emoluments  of  a  well-frequented  crossing.  It  would  be 
doing  more  than  they  have  done  of  late  for  the  cleanliness 
of  the  streets,  which,  witness  my  shoes,  are  in  a  piteous 
pickle.  I  thanked  the  selfish  sage  with  due  decorum — for 
what  purpose  can  anger  serve  ?  I  remember  once  before,  a 
mad  woman,  from  about  Alnwick,  baited  me  with  letters 
and  plans — first  for  charity  to  herself  or  some  protege*.  I 
gave  my  guinea.  Then  she  wanted  to  have  half  the  profit 
of  a  novel  which  I  was  to  publish  under  my  name  and 
auspices.  She  sent  me  the  manuscript,  and  a  moving  tale 
it  was,  for  some  of  the  scenes  lay  in  the  cabinet  a  I'eau.  I 
declined  the  partnership.  Lastly,  my  fair  correspondent 
insisted  I  was  a  lover  of  speculation,  and  would  be  much 
profited  by  going  shares  in  a  patent  medicine  which  she  had 
invented  for  the  benefit  of  little  babies,  I  believe.  I  dreaded 
to  have  anything  to  do  with  such  a  Herod-like  affair,  and 
begged  to  decline  the  honour  of  her  correspondence  in 
future.  I  should  have  thought  the  thing  a  quiz,  but  that 
the  novel  was  real  and  substantial.  Anne  goes  to  Eavel- 
ston  to-day  to  remain  to-morrow.  Sir  Alexander  Don 
called,  and  we  had  a  good  laugh  together. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  117 

February  1 2. — Having  ended  the  second  volume  of  Wood- 
stock last  night,  I  have  to  begin  the  third  this  morning. 
Now  I  have  not  the  slightest  idea  how  the  story  is  to  be 
wound  up  to  a  catastrophe.  I  am  just  in  the  same  case  as 
I  used  to  be  when  I  lost  myself  in  former  days  in  some 
country  to  which  I  was  a  stranger.  I  always  pushed  for  the 
pleasantest  road,  and  either  found  or  made  it  the  nearest. 
It  is  the  same  in  writing,  I  never  could  lay  down  a  plan — 
or,  having  laid  it  down,  I  never  could  adhere  to  it;  the 
action  of  composition  always  diluted  some  passages,  and 
abridged  or  omitted  others ;  and  personages  were  rendered 
important  or  insignificant,  not  according  to  their  agency  in 
the  original  conception  of  the  plan,  but  according  to  the 
success,  or  otherwise,  with  which  I  was  able  to  bring  them 
out.  I  only  tried  to  make  that  which  I  was  actually  writing 
diverting  and  interesting,  leaving  the  rest  to  fate.  I  have 
been  often  amused  with  the  critics  distinguishing  some 
passages  as  particularly  laboured,  when  the  pen  passed  over 
the  whole  as  fast  as  it  could  move,  and  the  eye  never  again 
saw  them,  except  in  proof.  Verse  I  write  twice,  and  some- 
times three  times  over.  This  may  be  called  in  Spanish  the 
Dar  donde  diere  mode  of  composition,  in  English  hob  nab  at 
a  venture ;  it  is  a  perilous  style,  I  grant,  but  I  cannot  help  it. 
When  I  chain  my  mind  to  ideas  which  are  purely  imagina- 
tive— for  argument  is  a  different  thing — it  seems  to  me  that 
the  sun  leaves  the  landscape,  that  I  think  away  the  whole 
vivacity  and  spirit  of  my  original  conception,  and  that  the 
results  are  cold,  tame,  and  spiritless.  It  is  the  difference 
between  a  written  oration  and  one  bursting  from  the  un- 
premeditated exertions  of  the  speaker,  which  have  always 
something  the  air  of  enthusiasm  and  inspiration.  I  would 
not  have  young  authors  imitate  my  carelessness,  however ; 
consilium  no?i  currum  cape. 

Read  a  few  pages  of  Will  D'Avenant,  who  was  fond  of 
having  it  supposed  that  Shakespeare  intrigued  with  his 


118  JOUENAL.  [FEB. 

mother.  I  think  the  pretension  can  only  be  treated  as 
Phaeton's  was,  according  to  Fielding's  farce — 

"Besides,  by  all  the  village  boys  I'm  shamed, 
You,  the  sun's  son,  you  rascal  ? — you  be  damn'd." 

Egad — I'll  put  that  into  Woodstock.1  It  might  come  well 
from  the  old  admirer  of  Shakespeare.  Then  Fielding's  lines 
were  not  written.  What  then  ? — it  is  an  anachronism  for 
some  sly  rogue  to  detect.  Besides,  it  is  easy  to  swear  they 
were  written,  and  that  Fielding  adopted  them  from  tradition. 
Walked  with  Skene  on  the  Calton  Hill. 

February  13. — The  Institution  for  the  Encouragment  of 
the  Fine  Arts  opens  to-day,  with  a  handsome  entertainment 
in  the  Exhibition-room,  as  at  Somerset  House.  It  strikes 
me  that  the  direction  given  by  amateurs  and  professors  to 
their  prottgts  and  pupils,  who  aspire  to  be  artists,  is  upon  a 
pedantic  and  false  principle.  All  the  Fine  Arts  have  it  for 
their  highest  and  more  legitimate  end  and  purpose,  to  affect 
the  human  passions,  or  smooth  and  alleviate  for  a  time  the 
more  unquiet  feelings  of  the  mind — to  excite  wonder,  or 
terror,  or  pleasure,  or  emotion  of  some  kind  or  other.  It 
often  happens  that,  in  the  very  rise  and  origin  of  these  arts, 
as  in  the  instance  of  Homer,  the  principal  object  is  obtained 
in  a  degree  not  equalled  by  his  successors.  But  there  is  a 
degree  of  execution  which,  in  more  refined  times,  the  poet  or 
musician  begins  to  study,  which  gives  a  value  of  its  own  to 
their  productions  of  a  different  kind  from  the  rude  strength 
of  their  predecessors.  Poetry  becomes  complicated  in  its 
rules — music  learned  in  its  cadences  and  harmonies — rhetoric 
subtle  in  its  periods.  There  is  more  given  to  the  labour  of 
executing — less  attained  by  the  effect  produced.  Still  the 

1  The  lines  are  given  in   Wood-  the  Commonwealth,  it  must  have 

stock,  with  the  following  apology  :  reached  the  author  of  Tom  Jones 

"  We  observe  this  couplet  in  Field-  by  tradition,  for  no  one  will  suspect 

ing's   farce    of    Tumbledown   Dick,  the  present  author  of  making  the 

founded  on  the  same  classical  story,  anachronism." 
As  it  was  current  in  the  time  of 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  119 

nobler  and  popular  end  of  these  arts  is  not  forgotten ;  and 
if  we  have  some  productions  too  learned,  too  recherches 
for  public  feeling,  we  have,  every  now  and  then,  music 
that  electrifies  a  whole  assembly,  eloquence  which  shakes 
the  forum,  and  poetry  which  carries  men  up  to  the  third 
heaven.  But  in  painting  it  is  different ;  it  is  all  become  a 
mystery,  the  secret  of  which  is  lodged  in  a  few  connoisseurs, 
whose  object  is  not  to  praise  the  works  of  such  painters  as 
produce  effect  on  mankind  at  large,  but  to  class  them  accord- 
ing to  their  proficiency  in  the  inferior  rules  of  the  art,  which, 
though  most  necessary  to  be  taught  and  learned,  should  yet 
only  be  considered  as  the  Gradics  ad  Pamassum — the  steps 
by  which  the  higher  and  ultimate  object  of  a  great  popular 
effect  is  to  be  attained.  They  have  all  embraced  the  very 
style  of  criticism  which  induced  Michael  Angelo  to  call 
some  Pope  a  poor  creature,  when,  turning  his  attention  from 
the  general  effect  of  a  noble  statue,  his  Holiness  began  to 
criticise  the  hem  of  the  robe.  This  seems  to  me  the  cause 
of  the  decay  of  this  delightful  art,  especially  in  history,  its 
noblest  branch.  As  I  speak  to  myself,  I  may  say  that  a 
painting  should,  to  be  excellent,  have  something  to  say  to 
the  mind  of  a  man,  like  myself,  well-educated,  and  sus- 
ceptible of  those  feelings  which  anything  strongly  recalling 
natural  emotion  is  likely  to  inspire.  But  how  seldom  do  I 
see  anything  that  moves  me  much !  Wilkie,  the  far  more 
than  Teniers  of  Scotland,  certainly  gave  many  new  ideas. 
So  does  Will  Allan,  though  overwhelmed  with  their  rebukes 
about  colouring  and  grouping,  against  [  which  they  are  not 
willing  to  place  his  general  and  original  merits.  Landseer's 
dogs  were  the  most  magnificent  things  I  ever  saw — leaping, 
and  bounding,  and  grinning  on  the  canvas.  Leslie  has  great 
powers;  and  the  scenes  from  Moliere  by  [Newton]  are 
excellent.  Yet  painting  wants  a  regenerator — some  one  who 
will  sweep  the  cobwebs  out  of  his  head  before  he  takes  the 
palette,  as  Chantrey  has  done  in  the  sister  art.  At  present 


120  JOURNAL.  [FEB. 

we  are  painting  pictures  from  the  ancients,  as  authors  in  the 
days  of  Louis  Quatorze  wrote  epic  poems  according  to  the 
recipe  of  Madame  Dacier  and  Co.  The  poor  reader  or  spec- 
tator has  no  remedy ;  the  compositions  are  secundum  artem, 
and  if  he  does  not  like  them,  he  is  no  judge — that 's  all. 

February  14. — I  had  a  call  from  Glengarry1  yesterday, 
as  kind  and  friendly  as  usual.  This  gentleman  is  a  kind 
of  Quixote  in  our  age,  having  retained,  in  their  full  extent, 
the  whole  feelings  of  clanship  and  chieftainship,  elsewhere 
so  long  abandoned.  He  seems  to  have  lived  a  century  too 
late,  and  to  exist,  in  a  state  of  complete  law  and  order,  like 
a  Glengarry  of  old,  whose  will  was  law  to  his  sept.  Warm- 
hearted, generous,  friendly,  he  is  beloved  by  those  who 
know  him,  and  his  efforts  are  unceasing  to  show  kindness 
to  those  of  his  clan  who  are  disposed  fully  to  admit  his 
pretensions.  To  dispute  them  is  to  incur  his  resentment, 
which  has  sometimes  broken  out  in  acts  of  violence  which 
have  brought  him  into  collision  with  the  law.  To  me  he 
is  a  treasure,  as  being  full  of  information  as  to  the  history 
of  his  own  clan,  and  the  manners  and  customs  of  the 
Highlanders  in  general.  Strong,  active,  and  muscular,  he 
follows  the  chase  of  the  deer  for  days  and  nights  together, 
sleeping  in  his  plaid  when  darkness  overtakes  him  in  the 
forest.  He  was  fortunate  in  marrying  a  daughter  of  Sir 
William  Forbes,  who,  by  yielding  to  his  peculiar  ideas  in 
general,  possesses  much  deserved  influence  with  him.  The 
number  of  his  singular  exploits  would  fill  a  volume  ;2  for,  as 
his  pretensions  are  high,  and  not  always  willingly  yielded  to, 
he  is  every  now  and  then  giving  rise  to  some  rumour.  He 
is,  on  many  of  these  occasions,  as  much  sinned  against  as 

1  Colonel    Banaldson    Macdonell  interior  of  a  convent  in  the  ancient 
of  Glengarry.     He  died  in  January  Highland  garb,   and  the   effect  of 
1828. — J.  G.  L.  such  an  apparition  on  the  nuns, 

2  "We  have  had  Marechal  Mac-  who  fled  in  all  directions. "—Scott 
donald  here.     We    had   a  capital  to   Skene,   Edinburgh,   24th  June 
account  of  Glengarry  visiting  the  1825. 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  121 

sinning ;  for  men,  knowing  his  temper,  sometimes  provoke 
him,  conscious  that  Glengarry,  from  his  character  for  vio- 
lence, will  always  be  put  in  the  wrong  by  the  public.  I 
have  seen  him  behave  in  a  very  manly  manner  when  thus 
tempted.  He  has  of  late  prosecuted  a  quarrel,  ridiculous 
enough  in  the  present  day,  to  have  himself  admitted  and 
recognised  as  Chief  of  the  whole  Clan  Eanald,  or  surname 
of  Macdonald.  The  truth  seems  to  be,  that  the  present 
Clanranald  is  not  descended  from  a  legitimate  Chieftain  of  the 
tribe  ;  for,  having  accomplished  a  revolution  in  the  sixteenth 
century,  they  adopted  a  Tanist,  or  Captain — that  is,  a  Chief 
not  in  the  direct  line  of  succession,  a  certain  Ian  Moidart, 
or  John  of  Moidart,  who  took  the  title  of  Captain  of  Clan- 
ranald, with  all  the  powers  of  Chief,  and  even  Glengarry's 
ancestor  recognised  them  as  chiefs  de  facto  if  not  de  jure. 
The  fact  is,  that  this  elective  power  was,  in  cases  of  insanity, 
imbecility,  or  the  like,  exercised  by  the  Celtic  tribes ;  and 
though  Ian  Moidart  was  no  chief  by  birth,  yet  by  election 
he  became  so,  and  transmitted  his  power  to  his  descendants, 
as  would  King  William  ill.,  if  he  had  had  any.  So  it  is  absurd 
to  set  up  the  jus  sanguinis  now,  which  Glengarry's  ancestors 
did  not,  or  could  not,  make  good,  when  it  was  a  right  worth 
combating  for.  I  wrought  out  my  full  task  yesterday. 

Saw  Cadell  as  I  returned  from  the  Court.  He  seems 
dejected,  apprehensive  of  another  trustee  being  preferred 
to  Cowan,  and  gloomy  about  the  extent  of  stock  of  novels, 
etc.,  on  hand.  He  infected  me  with  his  want  of  spirits,  and 
I  almost  wish  my  wife  had  not  asked  Mr.  Scrope  and 
Charles  K.  Sharpe  for  this  day.  But  the  former  sent  such 
loads  of  game  that  Lady  Scott's  gratitude  became  ungovern- 
able. I  have  not  seen  a  creature  at  dinner  since  the  direful 
17th  January,  except  my  own  family  and  Mr.  Laidlaw. 
The  love  of  solitude  increases  by  indulgence ;  I  hope  it  will 
not  diverge  into  misanthropy.  It  does  not  mend  the  matter 
that  this  is  the  first  day  that  a  ticket  for  sale  is  on  my 


122  JOURNAL.  [FEB. 

house.  Poor  No.  39.1  One  gets  accustomed  even  to  stone 
walls,  and  the  place  suited  me  very  well.  All  our  furniture, 
too,  is  to  go — a  hundred  little  articles  that  seemed  to  me 
connected  with  all  the  happier  years  of  my  life.  It  is  a 
sorry  business.  But  sursum  corda. 

My  two  friends  came  as  expected,  also  Missie,  and 
stayed  till  half-past  ten.  Promised  Sharpe  the  set  of 
Piranesi's  views  in  the  dining-parlour.  They  belonged  to 
my  uncle,  so  I  do  not  like  to  sell  them.2 

February  15. — Yesterday  I  did  not  write  a  line  of 
Woodstock.  Partly,  I  was  a  little  out  of  spirits,  though  that 
would  not  have  hindered.  Partly,  I  wanted  to  wait  for  some 
new  ideas — a  sort  of  collecting  of  straw  to  make  bricks  of. 
Partly,  I  was  a  little  too  far  beyond  the  press.  I  cannot 
pull  well  in  long  traces,  when  the  draught  is  too  far  behind 
me.  I  love  to  have  the  press  thumping,  clattering,  and 
banging  in  my  rear ;  it  creates  the  necessity  which  almost 
always  makes  me  work  best.  Needs  must  when  the  devil 
drives — and  drive  he  does  even  according  to  the  letter.  I 
must  work  to-day,  however.  Attended  a  meeting  of  the 
Faculty  about  our  new  library.  I  spoke — saying  that  I  hoped 
we  would  now  at  length  act  upon  a  general  plan,  and  look 
forward  to  commencing  upon  such  a  scale  as  would  secure  us 
at  least  for  a  century  against  the  petty  and  partial  manage- 
ment, which  we  have  hitherto  thought  sufficient,  of  fitting  up 
one  room  after  another.  Disconnected  and  distant,  these  have 
been  costing  large  sums  of  money  from  time  to  time,  all  now 
thrown  away.  We  are  now  to  have  space  enough  for  a  very 
large  range  of  buildings,  which  we  may  execute  in  a  simple 
taste,  leaving  Government  to  ornament  them  if  they  shall 
think  proper — otherwise,  to  be  plain,  modest,  and  handsome, 

1  No.  39  Castle  Street,  which  had  all  his  friends  were  within  a  circle 

been  occupied  by  him  from  1802,  of  a  few  hundred  yards.     For  de- 

when  he  removed  from  No.  10  in  scription  see  Life,  vol.  v.  pp.  321, 

the   same    street.     The    situation  333-4,  etc. 
suited  him,  as  the  houses  of  nearly         -  See  below,  March  12. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  123 

and  capable  of  being  executed  by  degrees,  and  in  such  por- 
tions as  convenience  may  admit  of. 

Poor  James  Hogg,  the  Ettrick  Shepherd,  came  to  advise 
with  me  about  his  affairs, — he  is  sinking  under  the  times ; 
having  no  assistance  to  give  him,  my  advice,  I  fear,  will  be  of 
little  service.  I  am  sorry  for  him  if  that  would  help  him, 
especially  as,  by  his  own  account,  a  couple  of  hundred 
pounds  would  carry  him  on. 

February  16. — "Misfortune's  gowling  bark"1  comes 
louder  and  louder.  By  assigning  my  whole  property  to 
trustees  for  behoof  of  creditors,  with  two  works  in  progress 
and  nigh  publication,  and  with  all  my  future  literary  labours, 
I  conceived  I  was  bringing  into  the  field  a  large  fund  of 
payment,  which  could  not  exist  without  my  exertions,  and 
that  thus  far  I  was  entitled  to  a  corresponding  degree  of 
indulgence.  I  therefore  supposed,  on  selling  this  house, 
and  various  other  property,  and  on  receiving  the  price  of 
Woodstock  and  Napoleon,  that  they  would  give  me  leisure 
to  make  other  exertions,  and  be  content  with  the  rents 
of  Abbotsford,  without  attempting  a  sale.  This  would  have 
been  the  more  reasonable,  as  the  very  printing  of  these  works 
must  amount  to  a  large  sum,  of  which  they  will  reap  the 
profits.  In  the  course  of  this  delay  I  supposed  I  was  to 
have  the  chance  of  getting  some  insight  both  into  Constable's 
affairs  and  those  of  Hurst  and  Robinson.  Nay,  employing 
these  houses,  under  precautions,  to  sell  the  works,  the  pub- 
lisher's profit  would  have  come  in  to  pay  part  of  their  debts. 
But  Gibson  last  night  came  in  after  dinner,  and  gave  me  to 
understand  that  the  Bank  of  Scotland  see  this  in  a  different 
point  of  view,  and  consider  my  contribution  of  the  produce 
of  past,  present,  and  future  labours,  as  compensated  in  full 
by  their  accepting  of  the  trust-deed,  instead  of  pursuing  the 
mode  of  sequestration,  and  placing  me  in  the  Gazette.  They 

1  Burns's  Dedication  to  Gavin  Hamilton — 

"  May  ne'er  misfortune's  gowling  bark 
Howl  through  the  dwelling  o'  the  Clerk." 


124  JOUKNAL.  [FEB. 

therefore  expected  the  trustees  instantly  to  commence  a  law- 
suit to  reduce  the  marriage  settlement,  which  settles  the 
estate  upon  Walter,  thus  loading  me  with  a  most  expensive 
suit,  and,  I  suppose,  selling  library  and  whatever  they  can 
lay  hold  on. 

Now  this  seems  unequal  measure,  and  would  besides  of 
itself  totally  destroy  any  power  of  fancy  or  genius,  if  it 
deserves  the  name,  which  may  remain  to  me.  A  man  can- 
not write  in  the  House  of  Correction ;  and  this  species  of 
peine  forte  et  dure  which  is  threatened  would  render  it  im- 
possible for  one  to  help  himself  or  others.  So  I  told  Gibson 
I  had  my  mind  made  up  as  far  back  as  the  24th  of  January, 
not  to  suffer  myself  to  be  harder  pressed  than  law  would 
press  me.  If  this  great  commercial  company,  through  whose 
hands  I  have  directed  so  many  thousands,  think  they  are 
right  in  taking  every  advantage  and  giving  none,  it  must  be 
my  care  to  see  that  they  take  none  but  what  law  gives 
them.  If  they  take  the  sword  of  the  law,  I  must  lay  hold  of 
the  shield.  If  they  are  determined  to  consider  me  as  an 
irretrievable  bankrupt,  they  have  no  title  to  object  to  my 
settling  upon  the  usual  terms  which  the  Statute  requires. 
They  probably  are  of  opinion  that  I  will  be  ashamed  to  do 
this  by  applying  publicly  for  a  sequestration.  Now,  my 
feelings  are  different.  I  am  ashamed  to  owe  debts  I  cannot 
pay ;  but  I  am  not  ashamed  of  being  classed  with  those  to 
whose  rank  I  belong.  The  disgrace  is  in  being  an  actual 
bankrupt,  not  in  being  made  a  legal  one.  I  had  like  to  have 
been  too  hasty  in  this  matter.  I  must  have  a  clear  under- 
standing that  I  am  to  be  benefited  or  indulged  in  some  way, 
if  I  bring  in  two  such  funds  as  those  works  in  progress, 
worth  certainly  from  £10,000  to  £15,000. 

Clerk  came  in  last  night  and  drank  wine  and  water. 

Slept  ill,  and  bilious  in  the  morning.  N.B. — I  smoked  a 
cigar,  the  first  for  this  present  year,  yesterday  evening. 

February  17. — Slept   sound,  for  Nature  repays   herself 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  125 

for  the  vexation  the  mind  sometimes  gives  her.  This  morn- 
ing put  interlocutors  on  several  Sheriff-Court  processes  from 
Selkirkshire.  Gibson  came  to-night  to  say  that  he  had 
spoken  at  full  length  with  Alexander  Monypenny,  proposed 
as  trustee  on  the  part  of  the  Bank  of  Scotland,  and  found 
him  decidedly  in  favour  of  the  most  moderate  measures,  and 
taking  burthen  on  himself  for  the  Bank  of  Scotland  proceed- 
ing with  such  lenity  as  might  enable  me  to  have  some  time 
and  opportunity  to  clear  these  affairs  out.  I  repose  trust  in 
Mr.  M.  entirely.  His  father,  old  Colonel  Monypenny,  was 
my  early  friend,  kind  and  hospitable  to  me  when  I  was  a 
mere  boy.  He  had  much  of  old  Withers  about  him,  as 
expressed  in  Pope's  epitaph — 

"  0  youth  in  arms  approved  ! 
0  soft  humanity  in  age  beloved." l 

His  son  David,  and  a  younger  brother,  Frank,  a  soldier 
who  perished  by  drowning  on  a  boating  party  from  Gibraltar, 
were  my  school-fellows ;  and  with  the  survivor,  now  Lord 
Pitmilly,2  I  have  always  kept  up  a  friendly  intercourse.  Of 
this  gentleman,  on  whom  my  fortunes  are  to  depend,  I  know 
little.  He  was  Colin  Mackenzie's  partner  in  business  while 
my  friend  pursued  it,  and  he  speaks  highly  of  him :  that 's  a 
great  deal.  He  is  secretary  to  the  Pitt  Club,  and  we  have 
had  all  our  lives  the  habit  idem  sentire  de  repullica :  that 's 
much  too.  Lastly,  he  is  a  man  of  perfect  honour  and 
reputation ;  and  I  have  nothing  to  ask  which  such  a  man 
would  not  either  grant  or  convince  me  was  unreasonable.  I 
have,  to  be  sure,  some  of  my  constitutional  and  hereditary 
obstinacy ;  but  it  is  in  me  a  dormant  quality.  Convince  my 
understanding,  and  I  am  perfectly  docile ;  stir  my  passions 
by  coldness  or  affronts,  and  the  devil  would  not  drive  me 
from  my  purpose.  Let  me  record,  I  have  striven  against 

1  "  O  born  to  arms !    O  worth  in  youth          2  David  Monypenny  had  been  on 
approved,  the  Bench  {rom  ]813     he  retired  In 

O  soft  humanity  in  age  beloved  !  ,  00~         ,   , .    ,     ,  . ,  ,    .  , 

1830,  and  died  at  the  age  of  eighty- 

—See  Pope,  Epitaphs,  9.  one  in  1850. 


126  JOUKNAL.  [FEB. 

this  besetting  sin.  When  I  was  a  boy,  and  on  foot  expedi- 
tions, as  we  had  many,  no  creature  could  be  so  indifferent 
which  way  our  course  was  directed,  and  I  acquiesced  in 
what  any  one  proposed ;  but  if  I  was  once  driven  to  make  a 
choice,  and  felt  piqued  in  honour  to  maintain  my  proposition, 
I  have  broken  off  from  the  whole  party,  rather  than  yield  to 
any  one.  Time  has  sobered  this  pertinacity  of  mind ;  but  it 
still  exists,  and  I  must  be  on  my  guard  against  it. 

It  is  the  same  with  me  in  politics.  In  general  I  care 
very  little  about  the  matter,  and  from  year's  end  to  year's 
end  have  scarce  a  thought  connected  with  them,  except  to 
laugh  at  the  fools  who  think  to  make  themselves  great  men 
out  of  little,  by  swaggering  in  the  rear  of  a  party.  But 
either  actually  important  events,  or  such  as  seemed  so  by 
their  close  neighbourhood  to  me,  have  always  hurried  me  off 
my  feet,  and  made  me,  as  I  have  sometimes  afterwards  re- 
gretted, more  forward  and  more  violent  than  those  who  had 
a  regular  jog-trot  way  of  busying  themselves  in  public 
matters.  Good  luck  ;  for  had  I  lived  in  troublesome  times, 
and  chanced  to  be  on  the  unhappy  side,  I  had  been  hanged 
to  a  certainty.  "What  I  have  always  remarked  has  been, 
that  many  who  have  hallooed  me  on  at  public  meetings,  and 
so  forth,  have  quietly  left  me  to  the  odium  which  a  man 
known  to  the  public  always  has  more  than  his  own  share 
of ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  they  were  easily  successful  in 
pressing  before  me,  who  never  pressed  forward  at  all,  when 
there  was  any  distribution  of  public  favours  or  the  like.  I 
am  horribly  tempted  to  interfere  in  this  business  of  altering 
the  system  of  banks  in  Scotland ;  and  yet  I  know  that  if  I 
can  attract  any  notice,  I  will  offend  my  English  friends 
without  propitiating  one  man  in  Scotland.  I  will  think  of 
it  till  to-morrow.  It  is  making  myself  of  too  much  impor- 
tance after  all. 

February  18. — I  set  about  Malachi  Malagrowther's 
Letter  on  the  late  disposition  to  change  everything  in  Scot- 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  127 

land  to  an  English  model,  but  without  resolving  about  the 
publication.     They  do  treat  us  very  provokingly. 

"  0  Land  of  Cakes  !  said  the  Northern  bard, 

Though  all  the  world  betrays  thee, 
One  faithful  pen  thy  rights  shall  guard, 
One  faithful  harp  shall  praise  thee."1 

Called  on  the  Lord  Chief  Commissioner,  who,  understand- 
ing there  was  a  hitch  in  our  arrangements,  had  kindly  pro- 
posed to  execute  an  arrangement  for  my  relief.  I  could 
not,  I  think,  have  thought  of  it  at  any  rate.  But  it  is  un- 
necessary. 

February  19. — Finished  my  letter  (Malachi  Mala- 
growther)  this  morning,  and  sent  it  to  James  B.,  who  is  to 
call  with  the  result  this  forenoon.  I  am  not  very  anxious 
to  get  on  with  Woodstock.  I  want  to  see  what  Constable's 
people  mean  to  do  when  they  have  their  trustee.  For  an 
unfinished  work  they  must  treat  with  the  author.  It  is 
the  old  story  of  the  varnish  spread  over  the  picture,  which 
nothing  but  the  artist's  own  hand  could  remove.  A  finished 
work  might  be  seized  under  some  legal  pretence. 

Being  troubled  with  thick-coming  fancies,  and  a  slight 
palpitation  of  the  heart,  I  have  been  reading  the  Chronicle 
of  the  Good  Knight  Messire  Jacques  de  Lalain — curious, 
but  dull,  from  the  constant  repetition  of  the  same  species  of 
combats  in  the  same  style  and  phrase.  It  is  like  washing 
bushels  of  sand  for  a  grain  of  gold.  It  passes  the  time, 
however,  especially  in  that  listless  mood  when  your  mind 
is  half  on  your  book,  half  on  something  else.  You  catch 
something  to  arrest  the  attention  every  now  and  then,  and 
what  you  miss  is  not  worth  going  back  upon;  idle  man's 
studies,  in  short.  Still  things  occur  to  one.  Something 
might  be  made  out  of  the  Pass  or  Fountain  of  Tears,2  a 
tale  of  chivalry, — taken  from  the  Passages  of  Arms,  which 

1  Parody  on  Moore's  Minstrel  Soy.  — J.  G.  L. 

2  "  Le  Pas  de  la  Fontaine  des  Pleurs." — Chroniques  Nationales. 


128  JOURNAL.  [FEB. 

Jacques  de  Lalain  maintained  for  the  first  day  of  every 
month  for  a  twelvemonth.1  The  first  mention  perhaps  of 
red-hot  balls  appears  in  the  siege  of  Oudenarde  by  the 
citizens  of  Ghent.  Chronique,  p.  293.  This  would  be  light 
summer  work. 

J.  B.  came  and  sat  an  hour.  I  led  him  to  talk  of 
Woodstock ;  and,  to  say  truth,  his  approbation  did  me  much 
good.  I  am  aware  it  may — nay,  must — be  partial ;  yet  is  he 
Tom  Tell-truth,  and  totally  unable  to  disguise  his  real 
feelings.2  I  think  I  make  no  habit  of  feeding  on  praise, 
and  despise  those  whom  I  see  greedy  for  it,  as  much  as  I 
should  an  under-bred  fellow,  who,  after  eating  a  cherry-tart, 
proceeded  to  lick  the  plate.  But  when  one  is  flagging,  a 
little  praise  (if  it  can  be  had  genuine  and  unadulterated  by 
flattery,  which  is  as  difficult  to  come  by  as  the  genuine 
mountain-dew)  is  a  cordial  after  all.  So  now —  Vamos  Caracci  ! 
— let  us  atone  for  the  loss  of  the  morning. 

February  20. — Yesterday,  though  late  in  beginning,  I 
nearly  finished  my  task,  which  is  six  of  my  close  pages, 

1  This  hint  was  taken  up  in  Count  '  Come,  speak  out,  my  good  fellow, 

Robert  of  Paris. — j.  G.  L.  what  has  put  it  in  your  Lead  to  be 

on  ceremony  with  me?  But  the 

-  James  Ballantyne  gives  an  in-  result  is  in  one  word — disappoint- 

teresting  account  of  an  interview  a  ment ! '  My  silence  admitted  his 

dozen  years  before  this  time,  when  inference  to  its  fullest  extent.  His 

"  Tom  Telltruth"  had  a  somewhat  countenance  certainly  did  look 

delicate  task  to  perform  : —  rather  blank  for  a  few  seconds  (for 

"  The  Lord  of  the  Isles  was  by  it  is  a  singular  fact,  that  before  the 

far  the  least  popular  of  the  series,  public,  or  rather  the  booksellers, 

and  Mr.  Scott  was  very  prompt  gave  their  decision  he  no  more 

at  making  such  discoveries.  In  knew  whether  he  had  written  well 

about  a  week  after  its  publication  or  ill,  than  whether  a  die,  which  he 

he  took  me  into  his  library,  and  threw  out  of  a  box,  was  to  turn  out 

asked  me  what  the  people  were  a  sise  or  an  ace).  However,  he  al- 

saying  about  The  Lord  of  the  Isles,  most  instantly  resumed  his  spirits 

I  hesitated,  much  in  the  same  and  expressed  his  wonder  rather 

manner  that  Gil  Bias  might  be  that  his  popularity  had  lasted  so 

supposed  to  do  when  a  similar  long,  than  that  it  should  have  given 

question  was  put  by  the  Archbishop  way  at  last.  At  length,  with  a  per- 

of  Grenada,  but  he  very  speedily  fectly  cheerful  manner,  he  said, 

brought  the  matter  to  a  point —  '  Well,  well,  James,  but  you  know 


1826.] 


JOURNAL. 


129 


about  thirty  pages  of  print,  to  a  full  and  uninterrupted 
day's  work.  To-day  I  have  already  written  four,  and  with 
some  confidence.  Thus  does  flattery  or  praise  oil  the  wheels. 
It  is  but  two  o'clock.  Skene  was  here  remonstrating  against 
my  taking  apartments  at  the  Albyn  Club,1  and  recommend- 
ing that  I  should  rather  stay  with  them.2  I  told  him  that 
was  altogether  impossible;  I  hoped  to  visit  them  often, 


we  must  not  droop — for  you  know 
we  can't  and  won't  give  over — we 
must  just  try  something  else,  and 
the  question  is,  what  it 's  to  be  ? ' 
Nor  was  it  any  wonder  he  spoke 
thus,  for  he  could  not  fail  to  be  un- 
consciously conscious,  if  I  dare  use 
such  a  term,  of  his  own  gigantic,  and 
as  yet  undeveloped,  powers,  and  was 
somewhat  under  forty  years  old. 
I  am  by  no  means  sure  whether  he 
then  alluded  to  Waverley,  as  if  he 
had  mentioned  it  to  me  for  the  first 
time,  for  my  memory  has  greatly 
failed  me  touching  this,  or  whether 
he  alluded  to  it,  as  in  fact  appears 
to  have  been  the  case,  as  having 
been  commenced  and  laid  aside 
several  years  before,  but  I  well  re- 
collect that  he  consulted  me  with 
his  usual  openness  and  candour  re- 
specting his  probability  of  succeed- 
ing as  a  novelist,  and  I  confess  my 
expectations  were  not  very  sanguine. 
He  saw  this  and  said,  '  Well,  I  don't 
see  why  I  should  not  succeed  as 
well  as  other  people.  Come,  faint 
heart  never  won  fair  lady — let  us 
try.'  I  remember  when  the  work 
was  put  into  my  hands,  I  could  not 
get  myself  to  think  much  of  the 
Waverley  Honour  scenes,  but  to  my 
shame  be  it  spoken,  when  he  had 
reached  the  exquisite  scenes  of 
Scottish  manners  at  Tully-Veolan, 
I  thought  them,  and  pronounced 
them,  vulgar  !  When  the  success 
of  the  book  so  utterly  knocked  me 
down  as  a  man  of  taste,  all  that 


the  good-natured  Author  observed 
was,  '  Well,  I  really  thought  you 
might  be  wrong  about  the  Scotch. 
Why,  Burns  had  already  attracted 
universal  attention  to  all  about 
Scotland,  and  I  confess  I  could  not 
see  why  I  should  not  be  able  to 
keep  the  flame  alive,  merely  be- 
cause I  wrote  in  prose  in  place  of 
rhyme.' " — Memorandum. 

1  This  was  a  club-house  on  the 
London  plan,  in  Princes  Street  [No. 
54],    a    little    eastward    from    the 
Mound.      On  its   dissolution    soon 
afterwards,  Sir  W.  was  elected  by 
acclamation  into  the  elder  Society, 
called  the  New  Club,  who  had  then 
their  house  in  St.  Andrew  Square 
[No.  3],  and  since  1837  in  Princes 
Street  [No.  85]. 

2  Mr.  Skene's  house  was  No.  126 
Princes    Street.       Scott's    written 
answer  has  been  preserved : — 

"  MY  DEAR  SKENE, — A  thousand 
thanks  for  your  kind  proposal.  But 
I  am  a  solitary  monster  by  temper, 
and  must  necessarily  couch  in  a 
den  of  my  own.  I  should  not,  I 
assure  you,  have  made  any  cere- 
mony in  accepting  your  offer  had  it 
at  all  been  like  to  suit  me. 

"  But  I  must  make  an  arrangement 
which  is  to  last  for  years,  and  per- 
haps for  my  lifetime  ;  therefore  the 
sooner  I  place  myself  on  my  footing 
it  will  be  so  much  the  better. — 
Always,  dear  Skene,  your  obliged 
and  faithful,  W.  SCOTT." 


130  JOURNAL.  [FEB. 

but  for  taking  a  permanent  residence  I  was  altogether  the 
country  mouse,  and  voted  for 

" A  hollow  tree, 

A  crust  of  bread  and  liberty."1 

The  chain  of  friendship,  however  bright,  does  not  stand 
the  attrition  of  constant  close  contact. 

February  21. — Corrected  the  proofs  of  Malachi2  this 
morning ;  it  may  fall  dead,  and  there  will  be  a  squib  lost ; 
it  may  chance  to  light  on  some  ingredients  of  national 
feeling  and  set  folk's  beards  in  a  blaze — and  so  much  the 
better  if  it  does.  I  mean  better  for  Scotland — not  a  whit 
for  me.  Attended  the  hearing  in  P[arliament]  House  till 
near  four  o'clock,  so  I  shall  do  little  to-night,  for  I  am  tired 
and  sleepy.  One  person  talking  for  a  long  time,  whether 
in  pulpit  or  at  the  bar,  or  anywhere  else,  unless  the  interest 
be  great,  and  the  eloquence  of  the  highest  character,  always 
sets  me  to  sleep.  I  impudently  lean  my  head  on  my  hand  in 
the  Court  and  take  my  nap  without  shame.  The  Lords  may 
keep  awake  and  mind  their  own  affairs.  Quod  supra  nos  nihil 
ad  nos.  These  clerks'  stools  are  certainly  as  easy  seats  as  are  in 
Scotland,  those  of  the  Barons  of  Exchequer  always  excepted. 

February  22. — Paid  Lady  Scott  her  fortnight's  allow- 
ance, £24. 

Ballantyne  breakfasted,  and  is  to  negotiate  about  Malachi 
with  Constable  and  Blackwood.  It  reads  not  amiss ;  and  if 
I  can  get  a  few  guineas  for  it  I  shall  not  be  ashamed  to 
take  them ;  for  paying  Lady  Scott,  I  have  just  left  between 

1  Pope's    Imitation    of    Horace,  the    Admiralty,    Mr.    Croker,    at- 
Bk.  ii.  Sat.  6. — J.  G.  L.  tracted  much  notice,  and  was,  by  the 

2  These  Letters  appeared  in  the  Government  of  the  time,  expected 
Edinburgh  Weekly  Journal  in  Febru-  to  neutralise  the  effect  of  the  north- 
ary  and  March  1826.     "They  were  ern    lucubrations  —  the     proposed 
then  collected  into  a  pamphlet,  and  measure,  as  regarded  Scotland,  was 
ran  through  numerous  editions ;  in  ultimately  abandoned,  and  that  re- 
the  subsequent  discussions  in  Parlia-  suit  was    universally    ascribed    to 
ment,  they  were  frequently  referred  Malachi     Malagrowther. " — Scott's 
to;    and    although    an    elaborate  Misc.  Works,  vol.  xxi. 

answer  by  the  then   Secretary  of 


1826,]  JOURNAL.  131 

£3  and  £4  for  any  necessary  occasion  and  my  salary  does 
not  become  due  until  20th  March,  and  the  expense  of  re- 
moving, etc.,  is  to  be  provided  for : 

"  But  shall  we  go  mourn  for  that,  my  dear  ? 

The  cold  moon  shines  by  night, 
And  when  we  wander  here  and  there, 
We  then  do  go  most  right." l 

The  mere  scarcity  of  money  (so  that  actual  wants  are  pro- 
vided) is  not  poverty — it  is  the  bitter  draft  to  owe  money 
which  we  cannot  pay.  Laboured  fairly  at  Woodstock  to-day, 
but  principally  in  revising  and  adding  to  Malachi,  of  which 
an  edition  as  a  pamphlet  is  anxiously  desired.  I  have 
lugged  in  my  old  friend  Cardrona 2 — I  hope  it  will  not  be 
thought  unkindly.  The  Banks  are  anxious  to  have  it 
published.  They  were  lately  exercising  lenity  towards  me, 
and  if  I  can  benefit  them,  it  will  be  an  instance  of  the 
"  King's  errand  lying  in  the  cadger's  gate." 

February  23. — Corrected  two  sheets  of  Woodstock  this 
morning.  These  are  not  the  days  of  idleness.  The  fact  is, 
that  the  not  seeing  company  gives  me  a  command  of  my 
time  which  I  possessed  at  no  other  period  in  my  life,  at 
least  since  I  knew  how  to  make  some  use  of  my  leisure. 
There  is  a  great  pleasure  in  sitting  down  to  write  with  the 
consciousness  that  nothing  will  occur  during  the  day  to 
break  the  spelL  Detained  in  the  Court  till  past  three,  and 
came  home  just  in  time  to  escape  a  terrible  squall.  I  am  a 
good  deal  jaded,  and  will  not  work  till  after  dinner.  There 
is  a  sort  of  drowsy  vacillation  of  mind  attends  fatigue  with 
me.  I  can  command  my  pen  as  the  school  copy  recommends, 
but  cannot  equally  command  my  thought,  and  often  write 
one  word  for  another.  Read  a  little  volume  called  The 

1  Winter's  Tale,  Act  iv.   Sc.   2,  allusion  here  is  to  the  anecdote  of 
slightly  altered.  the  Leetle  Anderson  in  the  first  of 

2  The   late    Mr.    Williamson    of  Malachi' s     Epistles. —See     Scott's 
Cardrona   in  Peeblesshire,    was   a  Prose  Miscellanies,  vol.  xxi.  p.  289. 
strange    humorist,    of    whom    Sir  — J.  G.  L. 

Walter    told    many    stories.     The 


132  JOUENAL.  [FEB. 

Omen1 — very  well  written — deep  and  powerful  language. 
Aut  Erasmus  aut  Diabolus,  it  is  Lockhart  or  I  am  strangely 
deceived.  It  is  passed  for  Wilson's  though,  but  Wilson  has 
more  of  the  falsetto  of  assumed  sentiment,  less  of  the  depth 
of  gloomy  and  powerful  feeling. 

February  24. — Went  down  to  printing-office  after  the 
Court,  and  corrected  Malachi.  J.  B.'s  name  is  to  be  on  the 
imprint,  so  he  will  subscribe  the  book.  He  reproaches  me 
with  having  taken  much  more  pains  on  this  temporary 
pamphlet  than  on  works  which  have  a  greater  interest  on 
my  fortunes.  I  have  certainly  bestowed  enough  of  revision 
and  correction.  But  the  cases  are  different.  In  a  novel  or 
poem,  I  run  the  course  alone — here  I  am  taking  tip  the 
cudgels,  and  may  expect  a  drubbing  in  return.  Besides, 
I  do  feel  that  this  is  public  matter  in  which  the  country 
is  deeply  interested ;  and,  therefore,  is  far  more  important 
than  anything  referring  to  my  fame  or  fortune  alone.  The 
pamphlet  will  soon  be  out — meantime  Malachi  prospers  and 
excites  much  attention.2  The  Banks  have  bespoke  500 
copies.  The  country  is  taking  the  alarm ;  and  I  think  the 
Ministers  will  not  dare  to  press  the  measure.  I  should 
rejoice  to  see  the  old  red  lion  ramp  a  little,  and  the  thistle 
again  claim  its  nemo  me  impune.  I  do  believe  Scotsmen 
will  show  themselves  unanimous  at  least  where  their  cash  is 

1  The  Omen,  by  Gait,  had  just  been  ' '  When  the  pipes  begin  to  play 

published. -See  Sir  Walter's  review  Tuttitaittie  to  the  dram, 

.   .,  .  .    .      .,       ,,.      ,.  Out  claymore  and  down  wi  gun, 

of  this  novel  m  the  Miscellaneous  And  to  the  rogues  again." 

Prose    Works,   vol.    xviii.    p.    333.  _ 

T,^,,  ,.,.„  i_....      -i  In  the  next  edition   it   was   sup- 

J  ohn  Gait  died  at  Greenock  in  April  ,  .      , 

,onn pressed,  as  some   mends   thought 

it  might  be  misunderstood.       Mr. 

"  "A  Letter  from  Malachi  Mala-  Croker  in  his  reply  had  urged  that 

growther,  Esq.,  to  the  Editor  of  the  if  the  author  appealed  to  the  edge 

Edinburgh  Weekly  Journal,  on  the  of  the  claymore  at  Prestonpans,  he 

proposed  Change  of  Currency,  and  might  refer  him  to  the  point  of  the 

other  late  alterations  as  they  affect,  bayonet  at  Culloden. — See  Croker 's 

or  are  intended  to  affect,  the  King-  Correspondence,  vol.  i.  pp.  317-320, 

dom  of  Scotland.  8vo,  Edin.  1826."  and  Scott's  Life,  vol.  viii.  pp. 

The  motto  to  the  epistle  was  : —  301-5. 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  133 

concerned.  They  shall  not  want  backing.  I  incline  to  cry 
with  Biron  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost, 

"  More  Ates,  more  Ates  !  stir  them  on." 

I  suppose  all  imaginative  people  feel  more  or  less  of  excita- 
tion from  a  scene  of  insurrection  or  tumult,  or  of  general 
expression  of  national  feeling.  When  I  was  a  lad,  poor 
Davie  Douglas l  used  to  accuse  me  of  being  cupidus  novarum 
rerum,  and  say  that  I  loved  the  stimulus  of  a  broil.  It 
might  be  so  then,  and  even  still — 

"  Even  in  our  ashes  glow  their  wonted  fires." s 

Whimsical  enough  that  when  I  was  trying  to  animate 
Scotland  against  the  currency  bill,  John  Gibson  brought  me 
the  deed  of  trust,  assigning  my  whole  estate  to  be  subscribed 
by  me ;  so  that  I  am  turning  patriot,  and  taking  charge  of 
the  affairs  of  the  country,  on  the  very  day  I  was  proclaiming 
myself  incapable  of  managing  my  own.  What  of  that? 
The  eminent  politician,  Quidnunc,3  was  in  the  same  condition. 
Who  would  think  of  their  own  trumpery  debts,  when  they 
are  taking  the  support  of  the  whole  system  of  Scottish 
banking  on  their  shoulders  ?  Odd  enough  too — on  this  day, 
for  the  first  time  since  the  awful  17th  January,  we  entertain 
at  dinner — Lady  Anna  Maria  Elliot,4  W.  Clerk,  John  A. 
Murray,6  and  Thomas  Thomson,6  as  if  we  gave  a  dinner  on 
account  of  my  cessiofori. 

February  25. — Our  party  yesterday  went  off  very  gaily ; 
much  laugh  and  fun,  and  I  think  I  enjoyed  it  more  from 

1  Lord  Reston,  who  died  at  Glads-  5  Afterwards  Lord  Advocate,  1834 

muir  in  1819.    He  was  one  of  Scott's  and    1835,    and  Judge  under    the 

companions  at  the  High  School. —  title  of  Lord  Murray  from  1839 ;  he 

See  Life,  vol.  i.  p.  40.  died  in  1859. 

9  See  Gray's  Elegy.— 3.  G.  L. 

e  The  learned  editor  of  the  Acts 

s  In  Arthur   Murphy's  farce  of  of  the  Parliaments  of  Scotland,  in 

The  Upholsterer,  or  What  News?  1Q  volg    folio>  Edin    1814.24;   he 

4  Lady  Anna  Maria  Elliot,  daugh-  succeeded  Sir  Walter  as  President 

ter  of  the  first  Earl  of  Minto.     She  of    the  Bannatyne   Club  in   1S32, 

married  Sir  Rnfane  Donkin  in  1832.  and  died  in  1852. 


JOUKNAL.  [FEB. 

the  rarity  of  the  event — I  mean  from  having  seen  society  at 
home  so  seldom  of  late.  My  head  aches  slightly  though ;  yet 
we  were  but  a  bottle  of  Champagne,  one  of  Port,  one  of  old 
Sherry,  and  two  of  Claret,  among  four  gentlemen  and  three 
ladies.  I  have  been  led  from  this  incident  to  think  of 
taking  chambers  near  Clerk,  in  Eose  Court.1  Methinks  the 
retired  situation  should  suit  me  well.  There  a  man  and 
woman  would  be  my  whole  establishment.  My  superfluous 
furniture  might  serve,  and  I  could  ask  a  friend  or  two  to 
dinner,  as  I  have  been  accustomed  to  do.  I  will  look  at  the 
place  to-day. 

I  must  set  now  to  a  second  epistle  of  Malachi  to  the 
Athenians.  If  I  can  but  get  the  sulky  Scottish  spirit  set 
up,  the  devil  won't  turn  them. 

"  Cock  up  your  beaver,  and  cock  it  fu'  sprush  ; 
We  '11  over  the  Border,  and  give  them  a  brush  ; 
There 's  somebody  there  we  '11  teach  better  behaviour ; 
Hey,  Johnnie  lad,  cock  up  your  beaver."  2 

February  26. — Spent  the  morning  and  till  dinner  on 
Malachi's  second  epistle  to  the  Athenians.  It  is  difficult  to 
steer  betwixt  the  natural  impulse  of  one's  national  feelings 
setting  in  one  direction,  and  the  prudent  regard  to  the  in- 
terests of  the  empire  and  its  internal  peace  and  quiet,  recom- 
mending less  vehement  expression.  I  will  endeavour  to 
keep  sight  of  both.  But  were  my  own  interests  alone  con- 
cerned, d — n  me  but  I  would  give  it  them  hot!  Had 
some  valuable  communications  from  Colin  Mackenzie  and 
Lord  Medwyn,  which  will  supply  my  plentiful  lack  of 
facts. 

Eeceived  an  anonymous  satire  in  doggrel,  which,  having 
read  the  first  verse  and  last,  I  committed  to  the  flames. 

1  Rose  Court,  where  Mr.   Clerk  Street     Directories    shortly    after 

had  a  bachelor's  establishment,  was  Mr.  Clerk's  death  in  1847. 
situated   immediately    behind    St. 

Andrew's   Church,   George   Street.         *  Burns,    in    Johnson's    Musical 

The   name  disappeared  from    our  Museum,  No.  309. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  135 

Peter  Murray,  son  of  the  clever  Lord  Elibank,  called  and  sat 
half-an-hour — an  old  friend,  and  who,  from  the  peculiarity 
and  originality  of  his  genius,  is  one  of  the  most  entertaining 
companions  I  have  ever  known.1  But  I  must  finish  Malachi. 

February  27. — Malachi  is  getting  on ;  I  must  finish  him 
to-night.  I  dare  say  some  of  my  London  friends  will  be  dis- 
pleased— Canning  perhaps,  for  he  is  engout  of  Huskisson. 
Can't  help  it. 

The  place  I  looked  at  won't  do ;  but  I  really  must  get 
some  lodging,  for,  reason  or  none,  Dalgleish 2  will  not  leave 
me,  and  cries  and  makes  a  scene.  Now  if  I  stayed  alone  in  a 
little  set  of  chambers,  he  would  serve  greatly  for  my  accom- 
modation. There  are  some  nice  places  of  the  kind  in  the 
New  Buildings,  but  they  are  distant  from  the  Court,  and  I 
cannot  walk  well  on  the  pavement.  It  is  odd  enough  that 
just  when  I  had  made  a  resolution  to  use  my  coach  frequently 
T  ceased  to  keep  one — in  town  at  least. 

February  28. — Completed  Malachi  to-day.  It  is  more 
serious  than  the  first,  and  in  some  places  perhaps  too  peppery. 
Never  mind,  if  you  would  have  a  horse  kick,  make  a  crupper 
out  of  a  whin-cow,3  and  I  trust  to  see  Scotland  kick  and 
fling  to  some  purpose.  Woodstock  lies  back  for  this.  But 
quid  non  pro  patria  ? 

1  One   of    the   nineteen   original  butler.     He  said  he  cared  not  how 

members   of    The    Club. — See   Mr.  much  his  wages  were  reduced — but 

Irving's  letter  with   names,   Life,  go  he  would  not. — j.  o.  L. 
vol.  i.  pp.  207-8,  and  Scott's  joyous 

visit  in  1793  to  Meigle,  pp.  292-4.  3  Whin-cow — Anglice,  a  bush  of 

-  Dalgleish     was     Sir     Walter's  furze. — J.  G.  L. 


MARCH. 

March  1. — Malachi  is  in  the  Edinburgh  Journal  to-day, 
and  reads  like  the  work  of  an  uncompromising  right-forward 
Scot  of  the  old  school.  Some  of  the  cautious  and  pluckless 
instigators  will  be  airaid  of  their  confederate ;  for  if  a  man 
of  some  energy  and  openness  of  character  happens  to  be  on 
the  same  side  with  these  truckling  jobbers,  they  stand  as 
much  in  awe  of  his  vehemence  as  doth  the  inexperienced 
conjurer  who  invokes  a  fiend  whom  he  cannot  manage. 
Came  home  in  a  heavy  shower  with  the  Solicitor.  I  tried 
him  on  the  question,  but  found  him  reserved  and  cautious. 
The  future  Lord  Advocate  must  be  cautious ;  but  I  can  tell 
my  good  friend  John  Hope  that,  if  he  acts  the  part  of  a  firm 
and  resolute  Scottish  patriot,  both  his  own  country  and 
England  will  respect  him  the  more.  Ah !  Hal  Dundas, 
there  was  no  such  truckling  in  thy  day ! 

Looked  out  a  quantity  of  things  to  go  to  Abbotsford; 
for  we  are  flitting,  if  you  please.1  It  is  with  a  sense  of  pain 
that  I  leave  behind  a  parcel  of  trumpery  prints  and  little 

ornaments,  once  the  pride  of  Lady  S 's  heart,  but  which 

she  sees  consigned  with  indifference  to  the  chance  of  an 
auction.  Things  that  have  had  their  day  of  importance  with 
me  I  cannot  forget,  though  the  merest  trifles.  But  I  am 
glad  that  she,  with  bad  health  and  enough  to  vex  her,  has 
not  the  same  useless  mode  of  associating  recollections  with 
this  unpleasant  business.  The  best  part  of  it  is  the  necessity 
of  leaving  behind,  viz.,  getting  rid  of,  a  set  of  most  wretched 

1  The  full-length  picture  of  Sir  in  his  possession  till  1831,  when  it 

Walter  (with  the  two  dogs,  Camp  was  sent  to  Abbotsford,  where  it 

and  the  deerhound)  by  Raeburn,  now  hangs. — See  Letter,  Scott  to 

painted  in  1809,  was  at  this  time  Skene,  under  January  16th,  1831. 
given  to  Mr.  Skene,  and  remained 
136 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  137 

daubs  of  landscapes,  in  great  gilded  frames,  of  which  I  have 
often  been  heartily  ashamed.  The  history  of  them  was 
curious.  An  amateur  artist  (a  lady)  happened  to  fall  into 
misfortunes,  upon  which  her  landscapes,  the  character  of 
which  had  been  buoyed  up  far  beyond  their  proper  level, 
sank  even  beneath  it,  and  it  was  low  enough.  One  most 
amiable  and  accomplished  old  lady  continued  to  encourage 
her  pencil,  and  to  order  picture  after  picture,  which  she  sent 
in  presents  to  her  friends.  I  suppose  I  have  eight  or  ten 
of  them,  which  I  could  not  avoid  accepting.  There  will  be 
plenty  of  laughing  when  they  come  to  be  sold.  It  would  be 
a  good  joke  enough  to  cause  it  to  be  circulated  that  they 
were  performances  of  my  own  in  early  youth,  and  they 
would  be  looked  on  and  bought  up  as  curiosities.  True  it  is 
that  I  took  lessons  of  oil-painting  in  youth  from  a  little 
Jew  animalcule,  a  smouch  called  Burrell,  a  clever  sensible 
creature  though;  but  I  could  make  no  progress  either  in 
painting  or  drawing.  Nature  denied  me  correctness  of  eye 
and  neatness  of  hand,  yet  I  was  very  desirous  to  be  a  draughts- 
man at  least,  and  laboured  harder  to  attain  that  point 
than  at  any  other  in  my  recollection,  to  which  I  did  not 

make  some  approaches.     My  oil-paintings  were  to  Miss 

above  commemorated  what  hers  are  to  Claude  Lorraine. 
Yet  Burrell  was  not  useless  to  me  altogether  neither;  he 
was  a  Prussian,  and  I  got  from  him  many  a  long  story  of 
the  battles  of  Frederic,  in  whose  armies  his  father  had  been 
a  commissary,  or  perhaps  a  spy.  I  remember  his  picturesque 
account  of  seeing  a  party  of  the  Black  Hussars  bringing  in 
some  forage  carts  which  they  had  taken  from  a  body  of  the 
Cossacks,  whom  he  described  as  lying  on  the  top  of  the 
carts  of  hay,  mortally  wounded,  and,  like  the  Dying  Gladiator, 
eyeing  their  own  blood  as  it  ran  down  through  the  straw. 
I  afterwards  took  lessons  from  Walker,  whom  we  used  to 
call  Blue-beard.  He  was  one  of  the  most  conceited  persons 
in  the  world,  but  a  good  teacher — one  of  the  ugliest 


138  JOURNAL.  [MARCH 

countenances  he  had  too — enough,  as  we  say,  to  spean  weans.1 
The  man  was  always  extremely  precise  in  the  quality  of 
everything  about  him,  his  dress,  accommodations,  and  every- 
thing else.  He  became  insolvent,  poor  man,  and  for  some 
reason  or  other  I  attended  the  meeting  of  those  concerned 
in  his  affairs.  Instead  of  ordinary  accommodations  for  writ- 
ing, each  of  the  persons  present  was  equipped  with  a  large 
sheet  of  drawing  paper  and  a  swan's  quill.  It  was  mourn- 
fully ridiculous  enough.  Skirving2  made  an  admirable 
likeness  of  "Walker,  not  a  single  scar  or  mark  of  the  small- 
pox which  seamed  his  countenance,  but  the  too  accurate 
brother  of  the.  brush  had  faithfully  laid  it  down  in  longitude 
and  latitude.  Poor  Walker  destroyed  it  (being  in  crayons) 
rather  than  let  the  caricature  of  his  ugliness  appear  at  the 
sale  of  his  effects.  I  did  learn  myself  to  take  some  vile  views 
from  Nature.  When  Will  Clerk  and  I  lived  very  much 
together,  I  used  sometimes  to  make  them  under  his  instruc- 
tion. He  to  whom,  as  to  all  his  family,  art  is  a  familiar 
attribute,  wondered  at  me  as  a  Newfoundland  dog  would  at 
a  greyhound  which  showed  fear  of  the  water. 

Going  down  to  Liddesdale  once,  I  drew  the  castle  of 
Hermitage  in  my  fashion,  and  sketched  it  so  accurately  that 
with  a  few  verbal  instructions  Clerk  put  it  into  regular  form, 
Williams  3  (the  Grecian)  copied  over  Clerk's,  and  his  drawing 
was  engraved  as  the  frontispiece  of  the  first  volume  of  the 
Kelso  edition,  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border*  Do  you 
know  why  you  have  written  all  this  down,  Sir  W.  ?  Because 
it  pleases  me  to  record  that  this  thrice-transmitted  drawing, 
though  taken  originally  from  a  sketch  of  mine,  was  extremely 

1  Spean  a  wean,  i.e.  wean  a  child,      at  the   beginning  of  this  century. 

vu  iioi-     •      /iT^n  iQin\       His    Travels  in  Italy    and  Greece 
-  Archibald  Skirving  (1749-1819),  ,,.  ,     ,    .      100~          ,   ,, 

„  ,  .        were  published  in   1820,   and  the 

well  known  as  a  portrait  painter  in      ,r.          .      ~  ,  0<VT       m.  • 

Views   in    Greece   in    1827.      This 
chalk  and  crayons  m  Edinburgh  m     ^  ^  leted  in  1829    the 

the  early  part  of  this  century.  ygar  ^  which  fae  ^ 

3  H.    W.    Williams,   a  native  of         4  Vols.  i.  and  ii.  were  published 
Wales,   who  settled  in  Edinburgh     in  1802. 


1826.]  »  JOUENAL.  139 

like  Hermitage,  which  neither  of  my  colleagues  in  the  task 
had  ever  seen  ?  No,  that 's  not  the  reason.  You  want  to 
put  off  writing  Woodstock,  just  as  easily  done  as  these 
memoranda,  but  which  it  happens  your  duty  and  your 
prudence  recommend,  and  therefore  you  are  loath  to  begin. 

"Heigho, 

I  can't  say  no  ; 

But  this  piece  of  task- work  off  I  can  stave,  O, 
For  Malachi  's  posting  into  an  octavo  ; 
To  correct  the  proof-sheets  only  this  night  I  have,  O, 
So,  Madame  Conscience,  you  've  gotten  as  good  as  you  gave,  0 
But  to-morrow 's  a  new  day  and  we  '11  better  behave,  O, 
So  I  lay  down  the  pen,  and  your  pardon  I  crave,  0." 

In  the  evening  Mr.  Gibson  called  and  transacted  business. 

March  2. — I  have  a  letter  from  Colin  Mackenzie,  approv- 
ing Malachi, — "Cold  men  may  say  it  is  too  strong;  but 
from  the  true  men  of  Scotland  you  are  sure  of  the  warm- 
est gratitude."  I  never  have  yet  found,  nor  do  I  expect  it 
on  this  occasion,  that  ill-will  dies  in  debt,  or  what  is  called 
gratitude  distresses  herself  by  frequent  payments.  The  one 
is  like  a  ward-holding  and  pays  its  reddendo  in  hard  blows. 
The  other  a  blanch-tenure,  and  is  discharged  for  payment  of 
a  red  rose  or  a  peppercorn.  He  that  takes  the  forlorn  hope 
in  an  attack,  is  often  deserted  by  those  that  should  support 
him,  and  who  generally  throw  the  blame  of  their  own 
cowardice  upon  his  rashness.  We  shall  see  this  will  end 
in  the  same  way.  But  I  foresaw  it  from  the  beginning. 
The  bankers  will  be  persuaded  that  it  is  a  squib  which  may 
burn  their  own  fingers,  and  will  curse  the  poor  pyrotech- 
nist that  compounded  it ;  if  they  do,  they  be  d — d.  Slept 
indifferently,  and  dreamed  of  Napoleon's  last  moments,  of 
which  I  was  reading  a  medical  account  last  night,  by  Dr. 
Arnott.  Horrible  death — a  cancer  on  the  pylorus.  I  would 
have  given  something  to  have  lain  still  this  morning  and 
made  up  for  lost  time.  But  desidiae  valedixi.  If  you  once 
turn  on  your  side  after  the  hour  at  which  you  ought  to  rise, 


140  JOUENAL.  [MARCH 

it  is  all  over.     Bolt  up  at  once.     Bad  night  last — the  next 
is  sure  to  be  better. 

"  When  the  drum  beats,  make  ready  ; 
When  the  fife  plays,  march  away — 
To  the  roll-call,  to  the  roll-call,  to  the  roll-call, 
Before  the  break  of  day." 

Dined  with  Chief-Commissioner,  Admiral  Adam,  W.  Clerk, 
Thomson,  and  I.  The  excellent  old  man  was  cheerful  at 
intervals — at  times  sad,  as  was  natural.  A  good  blunder 
he  told  us,  occurred  in  the  Annandale  case,  which  was  a 
question  partly  of  domicile.  It  was  proved  that  leaving 
Lochwood,  the  Earl  had  given  up  his  kain  and  carriages ; * 
this  an  English  Counsel  contended  was  the  best  of  all 
possible  proofs  that  the  noble  Earl  designed  an  absolute 
change  of  residence,  since  he  laid  aside  his  walking-stick 
and  his  coach. 

First  epistle  of  Malachi  is  getting  out  of  print,  or  rather 
is  out  of  print  already. 

March  3. — Could  not  get  the  last  sheets  of  Malachi, 
Second  Epistle,  last  night,  so  they  must  go  out  to  the  world 
uncorrected — a  great  loss,  for  the  last  touches  are  always 
most  effectual;  and  I  expect  misprints  in  the  additional 
matter.  We  were  especially  obliged  to  have  it  out  this 
morning,  that  it  may  operate  as  a  gentle  preparative  for  the 
meeting  of  inhabitants  at  two  o'clock.  Vogue  la  galere — we 
shall  see  if  Scotsmen  have  any  pluck  left.  If  not,  they  may 
kill  the  next  Percy  themselves.  It  is  ridiculous  enough  for 
me,  in  a  state  of  insolvency  for  the  present,  to  be  battling 
about  gold  and  paper  currency.  It  is  something  like  the 
humorous  touch  in  Hogarth's  Distressed  Poet,  where  the  poor 
starveling  of  the  Muses  is  engaged,  when  in  the  abyss  of 
poverty,  in  writing  an  Essay  on  payment  of  the  National 
Debt ;  and  his  wall  is  adorned  with  a  plan  of  the  mines  of 

1  Kain    in     Scotch    law     means      services  in  driving  with  horse  and 
payment    in    kind.      Carriages    in      cart, 
the  same  phraseology    stands    for 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  141 

Peru.  Nevertheless,  even  these  fugitive  attempts,  from  the 
success  which  they  have  had,  and  the  noise  they  are  making, 
serve  to  show  the  truth  of  the  old  proverb — 

"  When  house  and  land  are  gone  and  spent, 
Then  learning  is  most  excellent." 

On  the  whole,  I  am  glad  of  this  brulzie,  as  far  as  I  am  con- 
cerned ;  people  will  not  dare  talk  of  me  as  an  object  of  pity 
— no  more  "poor-manning."  "Who  asks  how  many  punds 
Scots  the  old  champion  had  in  his  pocket  when 

"  He  set  a  bugle  to  his  inouth, 

And  blew  so  loud  and  shrill, 
The  trees  in  greenwood  shook  thereat, 
Sae  loud  rang  ilka  hill "  ?  l 

This  sounds  conceited  enough,  yet  is  not  far  from  truth. 

The  meeting  was  very  numerous,  500  or  600  at  least,  and 
unanimous,  save  in  one  Mr.  Howden,  who  having  been  all 
his  life,  as  I  am  told,  in  bitter  opposition  to  Ministers,  pro- 
posed on  the  present  occasion  that  the  whole  contested 
measure  should  be  trusted  to  their  wisdom.  I  suppose  he 
chose  the  opportunity  of  placing  his  own  opinion  in  opposi- 
tion, single  opposition  too,  to  that  of  a  large  assembly.  The 
speaking  was  very  moderate.  Report  had  said  that  Jeffrey, 
J.  A.  Murray,  and  other  sages  of  the  economical  school,  were 
to  unbuckle  their  mails,  and  give  us  their  opinions.  But 
no  such  great  guns  appeared.  If  they  had,  having  the 
multitude  on  my  side,  I  would  have  tried  to  break  a  lance 
with  them.  A  few  short  but  well-expressed  resolutions  were 
adopted  unanimously.  These  were  proposed  by  Lord  Rollo, 
and  seconded  by  Sir  James  Fergusson,  Bart.  I  was  named 
one  of  a  committee  to  encourage  all  sorts  of  opposition  to  the 
measure.  So  I  have  already  broken  through  two  good  and 
wise  resolutions — one,  that  I  would  not  write  on  political 
controversy  ;  another,  that  I  would  not  be  named  on  public 
committees.  If  my  good  resolves  go  this  way,  like  snaw  aff 
a  dyke — the  Lord  help  me  ! 

1  Ballad  of  Hardylcnute,  slightly  altered. — J.  G.  L. 


142  JOUE1STAL.  [MARCH 

March  4. — Last  night  I  had  a  letter  from  Lockhart,  who, 
speaking  of  Malachi,  says,  "  The  Ministers  are  sore  "beyond 
imagination  at  present ;  and  some  of  them,  I  hear,  have  felt 
this  new  whip  on  the  raw  to  some  purpose."  I  conclude  he 
means  Canning  is  offended.  I  can't  help  it,  as  I  said  before — 
fiat  justitia,  mat  coelum.  No  cause  in  which  I  had  the 
slightest  personal  interest  should  have  made  me  use  my  pen 
'gainst  them,  blunt  or  pointed  as  it  may  be.  But  as  they  are 
about  to  throw  this  country  into  distress  and  danger,  by  a 
measure  of  useless  and  uncalled-for  experiment,  they  must 
hear  the  opinion  of  the  Scotsmen,  to  whom  it  is  of  no  other 
consequence  than  as  a  general  measure  affecting  the  country 
at  large, — and  mine  they  shall  hear.  I  had  determined  to  lay 
down  the  pen.  But  now  they  shall  have  another  of  Malachi, 
beginning  with  buffoonery,  and  ending  as  seriously  as  I  can 
write  it.  It  is  like  a  frenzy  that  they  will  agitate  the  upper 
and  middling  classes  of  society,  so  very  friendly  to  them, 
with  unnecessary  and  hazardous  [projects]. 

"  Oh,  thus  it  was  they  loved  them  dear, 

And  sought  how  to  requite  'em, 

And  having  no  friends  left  but  they, 

They  did  resolve  to  fight  them." 

The  country  is  very  high  just  now.  England  may  carry  the 
measure  if  she  will,  doubtless.  But  what  will  be  the  conse- 
quence of  the  distress  ensuing,  God  only  can  foretell. 

Lockhart,  moreover,  inquires  about  my  affairs  anxiously, 
and  asks  what  he  is  to  say  about  them  ;  says,  "  He  has  in- 
quiries every  day  ;  kind,  most  kind  all,  and  among  the  most 
interested  and  anxious,  Sir  William  Knighton,1  who  told  me 
the  king  was  quite  melancholy  all  the  evening  he  heard  of 
it."  This  I  can  well  believe,  for  the  king,  educated  as  a 
prince,  has,  nevertheless,  as  true  and  kind  a  heart  as  any 

1  Sir  W.  Knighton  was  Physician  King.     Sir  William  died  in  1836  ; 

and  Private  Secretary  to  George  iv.  his    Memoirs    were    published    in 

Rogers    (Table-Talk,  p.   289)  says  1838,  edited  by  his  widow, 
no  one  had  more  influence  with  the 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  143 

subject  in  his  dominions.  He  goes  on :  "I  do  think  they 
would  give  you  a  Baron's  gown  as  soon  as  possible,"  etc.  I 
have  written  to  him  in  answer,  showing  I  have  enough  to 
carry  me  on,  and  can  dedicate  my  literary  efforts  to  clear  my 
land.  The  preferment  would  suit  me  well,  and  the  late  Duke 
of  Buccleuch  gave  me  his  interest  for  it.  I  dare  say  the  young 
duke  would  do  the  same,  for  the  unvaried  love  I  have  borne 
his  house ;  and  by  and  by  he  will  have  a  voice  potential. 
But  there  is  Sir  William  Eae  in  the  meantime,  whose  pre- 
vailing claim  I  would  never  place  my  own  in  opposition  to, 
even  were  it  possible  by  a  tour  deforce,  such  as  L.  points  at, 
to  set  it  aside.  Meantime,  I  am  building  a  barrier  betwixt  me 
and  promotion.  Any  prospect  of  the  kind  is  very  distant  and 
very  uncertain.  Come  time,  come  rath,  as  the  German  says. 

In  the  meanwhile,  now  I  am  not  pulled  about  for  money, 
etc.,  methinks  I  am  happier  without  my  wealth  than  with  it. 
Everything  is  paid.  I  have  no  one  wishing  to  make  up  a 
sum  of  money,  and  writing  for  his  account  to  be  paid.  Since 
17th  January  I  have  not  laid  out  a  guinea,  out  of  my  own 
hand,  save  two  or  three  in  charity,  and  six  shillings  for  a 
pocket-book.  But  the  cash  with  which  I  set  out  having  run 
short  for  family  expenses  I  drew  on  Blackwood,  through 
Ballantyne,  which  was  honoured,  for  £25,  to  account  of 
Malachi's  Letters,  of  which  another  edition  of  1000  is 
ordered,  and  gave  it  to  Lady  Scott,  because  our  removal  will 
require  that  in  hand.  This  is  for  a  fortnight  succeeding 
Wednesday  next,  being  the  8th  March  current.  On  the  20th 
my  quarter  comes  in,  and  though  I  have  something  to  pay 
out  of  it,  I  shall  be  on  velvet  for  expense — and  regular  I 
will  be.  Methinks  all  trifling  objects  of  expenditure  seem  to 
grow  light  in  my  eyes.  That  I  may  regain  independence,  I 
must  be  saving.  But  ambition  awakes,  as  love  of  quiet  in- 
dulgence dies  and  is  mortified  within  me.  "  Dark  Cuthullin 
will  be  renowned  or  dead." x 

1  Ossian.  — j.  G.  L. 


144  JOURNAL.  [MARCH 

March  5. — Something  of  toddy  and  cigar  in  that  last 
quotation,  I  think.  Yet  I  only  smoked  two,  and  liquified 
with  one  glass  of  spirits  and  water.  I  have  sworn  I  will  not 
blot  out  what  I  have  once  written  here. 

Malaclii  goes  on,  but  I  am  dubious  about  the  commence- 
ment— it  must  be  mended  at  least — reads  prosy. 

Had  letters  from  Walter  and  Jane,  the  dears.  All  well. 
Regiment  about  to  move  from  Dublin. 

March  6. — Finished  third  Malachi,  which  1  don't  much 
like.  It  respects  the  difficulty  of  finding  gold  to  replace  the 
paper  circulation.  Now  this  should  have  been  considered 
first.  The  admitting  that  the  measure  may  be  imposed  is 
yielding  up  the  question,  and  Malachi  is  like  a  commandant 
who  should  begin  to  fire  from  interior  defences  before  his 
outworks  were  carried.  If  Ballantyne  be  of  my  own  opinion 
I  will  suppress  it.  We  are  all  in  a  bustle  shifting  things  to 
Abbotsford.  I  believe  we  shall  stay  here  till  the  beginning 
of  next  week.  It  is  odd,  but  I  don't  feel  the  impatience 
for  the  country  which  I  have  usually  experienced. 

March,  7. — Detained  in  the  Court  till  three  by  a  hearing. 
Then  to  the  Committee  appointed  at  the  meeting  on  Friday, 
to  look  after  the  small-note  business.  A  pack  of  old  fai- 
ntants,  incapable  of  managing  such  a  business,  and  who  will 
lose  the  day  from  mere  coldness  of  heart.  There  are  about 
a  thousand  names  at  the  petition.  They  have  added  no 
designations — a  great  blunder ;  for  testimonia  sunt  ponder- 
anda,  non  numeranda  should  never  be  lost  sight  of.  They 
are  disconcerted  and  helpless ;  just  as  in  the  business  of  the 
Kong's  visit,  when  everybody  threw  the  weight  on  me,  for 
which  I  suffered  much  in  my  immediate  labour,  and  after 
bad  health  it  brought  on  a  violent  eruption  on  my  skin, 
which  saved  me  from  a  fever  at  the  time,  but  has  been 
troublesome  more  or  less  ever  since.  I  was  so  disgusted 
with  seeing  them  sitting  in  ineffectual  helplessness  spitting 
on  the  hot  iron  that  lay  before  them,  and  touching  it  with 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  145 

a  timid  finger,  as  if  afraid  of  being  scalded,  that  at  another 
time  I  might  have  dashed  in  and  taken  up  the  hammer, 
summoned  the  deacons  and  other  heads  of  public  bodies, 
and  by  consulting  them  have  carried  them  with  me.  But  I 
cannot  waste  my  time,  health,  and  spirits  in  fighting  thank- 
less battles.  I  left  them  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  presage, 
unless  the  country  make  an  alarm,  the  cause  is  lost.  The 
philosophical  reviewers  manage  their  affairs  better — hold 
off — avoid  committing  themselves,  but  throw  their  vis  inertice 
into  the  opposite  scale,  and  neutralise  the  feelings  which  they 
cannot  combat.  To  force  them  to  fight  on  disadvantageous 
ground  is  our  policy.  But  we  have  more  sneakers  after 
Ministerial  favour  than  men  who  love  their  country,  and 
who  upon  a  liberal  scale  would  serve  their  party.  For  to 
force  the  "Whigs  to  avow  an  unpopular  doctrine  in  popular 
assemblies,  or  to  wrench  the  government  of  such  bodies  from 
them,  would  be  a  coup  de  maitre.  But  they  are  alike  destitute 
of  manly  resolution  and  sound  policy.  D — n  the  whole 
nest  of  them !  I  have  corrected  the  last  of  Malachi,  and  let 
the  thing  take  its  chance.  I  have  made  enemies  enough, 
and  indisposed  enough  of  friends. 

March  8. — At  the  Court,  though  a  teind  day.  A  foolish 
thing  happened  while  the  Court  were  engaged  with  the 
teinds.  I  amused  myself  with  writing  on  a  sheet  of  paper 
notes  on  Frederick  Maitland's  account  of  the  capture  of 
Bonaparte ;  and  I  have  lost  these  notes — shuffled  in  perhaps 
among  my  own  papers,  or  those  of  the  teind  clerks.  What 
a  curious  document  to  be  found  in  a  process  of  valuation ! 

Being  jaded  and  sleepy,  I  took  up  Le  Due  de  Guise  on 
Naples.1  I  think  this,  with  the  old  Memoires  on  the  same 

1  Pastoret :  Le  Due  de  Guise  d  "The  Reviewal  then  meditated 

Naples,  etc..  en  1647  et  1648.     8vo,  was  afterwards  published  in  Foreign 

1825;  also  Memoires  relating  his  pass-  Quarterly  Review,  vol.  iv.  p    355, 

age  to  Naples  and  heading  the  Second  but  not  included  in  the  Misc.  Prose 

Revolt  of  that  people.     Englished,  Works." — Abbotsford  Library  Cata- 

sm.  8vo,  1669.  logue,  p.  36. 

K 


H6  JOURNAL.  [MARCH 

subject  which  I  have  at  Abbotsford,  would  enable  me  to 
make  a  pretty  essay  for  the  Quarterly.  We  must  take  up 
Woodstock  now  in  good  earnest.  Mr.  Cowan,  a  good  and 
able  man,  is  chosen  trustee  in  Constable's  affairs,  with  full 
power.  From  what  I  hear,  the  poor  man  is  not  sensible 
of  the  nature  of  his  own  situation ;  for  myself,  I  have  suc- 
ceeded in  putting  the  matters  perfectly  out  of  my  mind 
since  I  cannot  help  them,  and  have  arrived  at  a  flocci- 
paitci-nihili-pili-iica.tion  of  money,  and  I  thank  Shenstone 
for  inventing  that  long  word.1  They  are  removing  the  wine, 
etc.,  to  the  carts,  and  you  will  judge  if  our  flitting  is  not 
making  a  noise  in  the  world — or  in  the  street  at  least. 
March  9. — I  foresaw  justly, 

"  When  first  I  set  this  dangerous  stone  a-rolling, 
'Twould  fall  upon  myself."  2 

Sir  Robert  Dundas  to-day  put  into  my  hands  a  letter  of 
between  thirty  and  forty  pages,  in  angry  and  bitter  reproba- 
tion of  Mcdachi,  full  of  general  averments  and  very  unten- 
able arguments,  all  written  at  me  by  name,  but  of  which  I 
am  to  have  no  copy,  and  which  is  to  be  shown  to  me  in 
extenso,  and  circulated  to  other  special  friends,  to  whom  it 
may  be  necessary  to  "  give  the  sign  to  hate." 3  I  got  it  at 
two  o'clock,  and  returned  [it]  with  an  answer  four  hours 
afterwards,  in  which  I  have  studied  not  to  be  tempted  into 
either  sarcastic  or  harsh  expressions.*  A  quarrel  it  is  how- 
ever, in  all  the  forms,  between  my  old  friend  and  myself, 
and  his  lordship's  reprimand  is  to  be  read  out  in  order  to 
all  our  friends.  They  all  know  what  I  have  said  is  true, 
but  that  will  be  nothing  to  the  purpose  if  they  are  desired 

1  W.  Shenetone's  Essays  (1765),         2  King  Henry  VIII. ,  Actv.  Sc.  2, 

p.  115,  or  Works  (1764-69),  vol.  iii.  slightly  altered. — J.  o.  L. 
p.  49.  3  "Watch  the  sign  to  hate."- 

I  am  indebted  to  Dr.  J.  A.  H.  Johnson's  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes. 
Murray  for  this  reference,  which  he         4  SeeArniston  Memoirs,  8vo,  Edin. 

kindly  supplied  from  the  materials  1888,  for  text  of  Lord  Melville's 

for  his  great  English  Dictionary  on  letter  and  Sir  Walter's  reply,  pp. 

Historical  Principles.  315-326. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  147 

to  consider  it  as  false.  As  for  Lord  Melville,  I  do  not 
wonder  that  he  is  angry,  though  he  has  little  reason,  for  he, 
our  watchman  stented,  has  from  time  to  time  suffered  all 
manner  of  tampering  to  go  on  under  his  nose  with  the 
institutions  and  habits  of  Scotland.  As  for  myself,  I  was 
quite  prepared  for  my  share  of  displeasure.  It  is  very 
curious  that  I  should  have  foreseen  all  this  so  distinctly  as 
far  back  as  1 7th  February.  Nobody  at  least  can  plague  me 
for  interest  with  Lord  Melville  as  they  used  to  do.  By  the 
way,  from  the  tone  of  his  letter,  I  think  his  lordship  will 
give  up  the  measure,  and  I  will  be  the  peace-offering.  All 
will  agree  to  condemn  me  as  too  warm — too  rash — and  get 
rich  on  privileges  which  they  would  not  have  been  able  to 
save  but  for  a  little  rousing  of  spirit,  which  will  not  perhaps 
fall  asleep  again.1  A  gentleman  called  on  the  part  of  a 
Captain  [Eutherford],  to  make  inquiry  about  the  Border 
Rutherfords.  Not  being  very  cleever,  as  John  Fraser  used 
to  say,  at  these  pedigree  matters,  referred  him  to  Mrs.  Dr. 
Russell  and  Robt.  Rutherford.  The  noble  Captain  conceits 
he  has  some  title  to  the  honours  of  Lord  Rutherford.  Very 
odd — when  there  is  a  vacant  or  dormant  title  in  a  Scottish 
family  or  name,  everybody,  and  all  connected  with  the  clan, 
conceive  they  have  guodam  modo  a  right  to  it.  Not  being 
engrossed  by  any  individual,  it  communicates  part  of  its 
lustre  to  every  individual  in  the  tribe,  as  if  it  remained  in 
common  stock  for  that  purpose. 

March  10. — I  am  not  made  entirely  in  the  same  mould 
of  passions  like  other  people.  Many  men  would  deeply 
regret  a  breach  with  so  old  a  friend  as  Lord  Melville,  and 
many  men  would  be  in  despair  at  losing  the  good  graces  of 
a  Minister  of  State  for  Scotland,  and  all  pretty  visions  about 
what  might  be  done  for  myself  and  my  sons,  especially 

1  "  Seldom    has     any    political  county  public  meetings  were  held 

measure  called  forth  so  strong  and  BO  to  deprecate  the  destruction  of  the 

universal  an  expression  of  public  one  pound  and  guinea  notes. — An- 

opinion.     In  every  city  and  in  every  nual  Register  (1826),  p.  24. 


148  JOURNAL.  [MARCH 

Charles.  But  I  think  my  good  lord  doth  ill  to  be  angry, 
like  the  patriarch  of  old,  and  I  have,  in  my  odd  sans  souciauce 
character,  a  good  handful  of  meal  from  the  grist  of  the  Jolly 

Miller,  who 

"Once 

Dwelled  on  the  river  Dee  ; 
I  care  for  nobody,  no,  not  I, 
Since  nobody  cares  for  me." 

Breakfasted  with  me  Mr.  Franks,  a  young  Irishman  from 
Dublin,  who  brought  letters  from  Walter  and  Captain 
Longmore  of  the  Royal  Staff.  He  has  written  a  book  of 
poetry,  Tales  of  Chivalry  and  Romance,  far  from  bad,  yet 
wants  spirit.  He  talks  of  publishing  his  recollections  in 
the  Peninsula,  which  must  be  interesting,  for  he  has,  I 
think,  sense  and  reflection. 

Sandie  Young1  came  in  at  breakfast-time  with  a  Monsieur 
Brocque  of  Montpelier. 

Saw  Sir  Robert  Dundas  at  Court,  who  condemns  Lord 
Melville,  and  says  he  will  not  show  his  letter  to  any  one ;  in 
fact  it  would  be  exactly  placarding  me  in  a  private  and  con- 
fidential manner.  He  is  to  send  my  letter  to  Lord  Melville. 
Colin  Mackenzie  concurs  in  thinking  Lord  Melville  quite 
wrong.  "  He  must  cool  in  the  skin  he  het  in." 

On  coming  home  from  the  Court  a  good  deal  fatigued, 
I  took  a  nap  in  my  easy-chair,  then  packed  my  books,  and 
committed  the  refuse  to  Jock  Stevenson — 

"  Left  not  a  limb  on  which  a  Dane  could  triumph." 

Gave  Mr.  Gibson  my  father's  cabinet,  which  suits  a  man 
of  business  well.  Gave  Jock  Stevenson  the  picture  of  my 
old  favourite  dog  Camp,  mentioned  in  one  of  the  introduc- 
tions to  Marmion,  and  a  little  crow-quill  drawing  of  Melrose 
Abbey  by  Nelson,  whom  I  used  to  call  the  Admiral.  Poor 
fellow !  he  had  some  ingenuity,  and  was,  in  a  moderate  way, 

i  Alex.    Young    of    Harburn,    a     a  steady  and  esteemed    friend   of 
steady  Whig  of  the  old  school,  and      Sir  Walter's. — J.  G.  L. 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  149 

a  good  penman  and  draughtsman.  He  left  his  situation  of 
amanuensis  to  go  into  Lord  Home's  militia  regiment,  but 
his  dissipated  habits  got  the  better  of  a  strong  constitution, 
and  he  fell  into  bad  ways  and  poverty,  and  died,  I  believe, 
in  the  hospital  at  Liverpool.  Strange  enough  that  Henry 
Weber,  who  acted  afterwards  as  my  amanuensis  for  many 
years,  had  also  a  melancholy  fate  ultimately.  He  was  a 
man  of  very  superior  attainments,  an  excellent  linguist  and 
geographer,  and  a  remarkable  antiquary.  He  published  a 
collection  of  ancient  Eomances,  superior,  I  think,  to  the 
elaborate  Eitson.  He  also  published  an  edition  of  Beaumont 
and  Fletcher,  but  too  carelessly  done  to  be  reputable.  He 
was  a  violent  Jacobin,  which  he  thought  he  disguised  from 
me,  while  I,  who  cared  not  a  fig  about  the  poor  young  man's 
politics,  used  to  amuse  myself  with  teasing  him.  He  was 
an  excellent  and  affectionate  creature,  but  unhappily  was 
afflicted  with  partial  insanity,  especially  if  he  used  strong 
liquors,  to  which,  like  others  with  that  unhappy  tendency, 
he  was  occasionally  addicted.  In  18141  he  became  quite 
insane,  and,  at  the  risk  of  my  life,  I  had  to  disarm  him  of 
a  pair  of  loaded  pistols,  which  I  did  by  exerting  the  sort  of 
authority  which,  I  believe,  gives  an  effectual  control  in  such 
cases.  His  friends,  who  were  respectable,  placed  him  in  the 
York  Asylum,  where  he  pined  away  and  died,  I  think,  in 
1814  or  1815.2  My  patronage  in  this  way  has  not  been 
lucky  to  the  parties  protected.  I  hope  poor  George  Huntly 
Gordon  will  escape  the  influence  of  the  evil  star.  He  has  no 
vice,  poor  fellow,  but  his  total  deafness  makes  him  helpless. 
March  11. — This  day  the  Court  rose  after  a  long  and 
laborious  sederunt.  I  employed  the  remainder  of  the  day 
in  completing  a  set  of  notes  on  Captain  Maitland's  manu- 
script narrative  of  the  reception  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte  on 
board  the  Bellerophon.  It  had  been  previously  in  the  hands 
of  my  friend  Basil  Hall,  who  had  made  many  excellent  cor- 

1  See  Life,  vol.  iv.  pp.  146-148.  *  Henry  Weber  died  in  1818. 


150  JOUKNAL.  [MARCH 

rections  in  point  of  style ;  but  he  had  been  hypercritical  in 
wishing  (in  so  important  a  matter  where  everything  depends 
on  accuracy)  this  expression  to  be  altered  for  delicacy's 
sake, — that  to  be  omitted  for  fear  of  giving  offence, — and 
that  other  to  be  abridged  for  fear  of  being  tedious.  The  plain 
sailor's  narrative  for  me,  written  on  the  spot,  and  bearing  in 
its  minuteness  the  evidence  of  its  veracity. 

Lord  Elgin  sent  me,  some  time  since,  a  curious  account 
of  his  imprisonment  in  France,  and  the  attempts  which  were 
made  to  draw  him  into  some  intrigue  which  might  authorise 
treating  him  with  rigour.1  He  called  to-day  and  communi- 
cated some  curious  circumstances,  on  the  authority  of  Fouche*, 
Denon,  and  others,  respecting  Bonaparte  and  the  empress 
Maria  Louise,  whom  Lord  Elgin  had  conversed  with  on  the 
subject  in  Italy.  His  conduct  towards  her  was  something 
like  that  of  Ethwald  to  Elburga,  in  Joanna  Baillie's  fine 
tragedy,2  making  her  postpone  her  high  rank  by  birth  to  the 
authority  which  he  had  acquired  by  his  talents.  Dinner 
was  usually  announced  for  a  particular  hour,  and  Napoleon's 
business  often  made  him  late.  She  was  not  permitted  to 
sit  down  to  table,  an  etiquette  which  was  reasonable  enough. 
But  from  the  hour  of  dinner  till  the  Emperor  appeared  she 
was  to  be  in  the  act  of  sitting  down ;  that  is  to  say,  he  was 
displeased  if  he  found  her  engaged  with  a  book,  with  work, 
or  with  anything  else.  She  was  obliged  to  be  in  a  state  of 
absolute  "being  about  to  sit  down."  She  seemed  a  good 
deal  ffSnSe  by  something  of  that  kind,  though  remembering 
with  pride  she  had  been  Empress,  it  might  almost  be  said  of 
the  world.  The  rest  for  to-morrow. 

March  12. — Eesumed  Woodstock,  and  wrote  my  task  of 
six  pages.  I  was  interrupted  by  a  slumberous  feeling  which 
made  me  obliged  to  stop  once  or  twice.  I  shall  soon  have 

1  See  Life  of  Bonaparte.  Miscel-  *  Plays  on  the  Passions,  2  vols. 
laneous  Prose  Works,  vol.  xi.  pp.  8vo,  Lond.  1802,  vol.  ii.  pp.  211- 
346-351.— J.  o.  L.  215. 


i826.]  JOURNAL.  151 

a  remedy  in  the  country,  which  affords  the  pleasanter 
resource  of  a  walk  when  such  feelings  come  on.  I  hope  I 
am  the  reverse  of  the  well-known  line,  "sleepy  myself, 
to  give  my  readers  sleep."  I  cannot  gurnalise  at  any  rate, 
having  wrought  my  eyes  nearly  out.1 

March  13. — Wrote  to  the  end  of  a  chapter,  and  know- 
ing no  more  than  the  man  in  the  moon  what  comes  next, 
I  will  put  down  a  few  of  Lord  Elgin's  remembrances,  and 
something  may  occur  to  me  in  the  meanwhile.  When 
Mfaria]  Louise  first  saw  B[onaparte],  she  was  in  the  carriage 
with  his  representative  general,  when  she  saw  a  horseman 
ride  forward  at  the  gallop,  passing  and  repassing  the 
carriage  in  a  manner  which,  joined  to  the  behaviour  of 
her  companion,  convinced  her  who  it  was,  especially 
as  he  endeavoured,  with  a  curiosity  which  would  not 
have  been  tolerated  in  another,  to  peep  into  the  windows. 

When  she  alighted  at  the  inn  at ,  Napoleon  presented 

himself,  pulled  her  by  the  ear,  and  kissed  her  forehead. 

Bonaparte's  happiest  days  passed  away  when  he  dismissed 
from  about  him  such  men  as  Talleyrand  and  Touche*,  whose 
questions  and  objections  compelled  him  to  recur  upon, 
modify,  and  render  practicable  the  great  plans  which  his 
ardent  conception  struck  out  at  a  heat.  When  he  had 
Murat  and  such  persons  about  him,  who  marvelled  and 

1  He  had,  however,  snatched  a  residence.     I    also    send    a    print 

moment    to    write    the    following  which  is  an  old  favourite  of  mine, 

playful  note  to  Mr.  Sharpe,  little  from  the  humorous  correspondence 

dreaming  that  the  sportive  allusion  between  Mr.  Mountebank's  face  and 

to   his   return  in   May  would   be  the  monkey's.     I  leave  town  to-day 

so    sadly    realised  : — "  MY    DEAR  or  to-morrow  at  furthest.     When  I 

CHARLES, — You  promised  when  I  return  in  May  I  shall  be 

dispUnished    this   house   that   you  Bachelor  Bluff,  bachelor  Bluff, 

would  accept  of  the  prints  of  Roman  Hey  for  a  heart  that 's  rugged  and  tough. 

antiquities,  which  I  now  send.     I  I  shall  have  a  beefsteak  and  a  bottle 

believe  they  were   once    in    some  of  wine  of  a  Sunday,  which  I  hope 

esteem,  though  now  so  detestably  you  will  often  take  share  of, — Being 

smoked  that   they  will  only  suit  with  warm  regard  always  yours, 

your  suburban  villa  in  the  Cowgate  WALTER  SCOTT." — Sharpe's  Corre- 

when  you  remove  to  that  classical  spondenc.f.  vol.  ii.  pp.  359-60. 


152  JOURNAL.  [MARCH 

obeyed,  his  schemes,  equally  magnificent,  were  not  so  well 
matured,  and  ended  in  the  projector's  ruin. 

I  have  hinted  in  these  notes  that  I  am  not  entirely 
free  from  a  sort  of  gloomy  fits,  with  a  fluttering  of  the 
heart  and  depression  of  spirits,  just  as  if  I  knew  not  what 
was  going  to  befall  me.  I  can  sometimes  resist  this  suc- 
cessfully, but  it  is  better  to  evade  than  to  combat  it.  The 
hang-dog  spirit  may  have  originated  in  the  confusion  and 
chucking  about  of  our  old  furniture,  the  stripping  of  walls 
of  pictures,  and  rooms  of  ornaments ;  the  leaving  a  house 
we  have  so  long  called  our  home  is  altogether  melancholy 
enough.  I  am  glad  Lady  S.  does  not  mind  it,  and  yet  I 
wonder,  too.  She  insists  on  my  remaining  till  Wednesday, 
not  knowing  what  I  suffer.  Meanwhile,  to  make  my 
recusant  spirit  do  penance,  I  have  set  to  work  to  clear 
away  papers  and  pack  them  for  my  journey.  "What  a 
strange  medley  of  thoughts  such  a  task  produces !  There 
lie  letters  which  made  the  heart  throb  when  received,  now 
lifeless  and  uninteresting — as  are  perhaps  their  owners. 
Riddles  which  time  has  read — schemes  which  he  has 
destroyed  or  brought  to  maturity — memorials  of  friendships 
and  enmities  which  are  now  alike  faded.  Thus  does  the 
ring  of  Saturn  consume  itself.  To-day  annihilates  yesterday, 
as  the  old  tyrant  swallowed  his  children,  and  the  snake 
its  tail.  But  I  must  say  to  my  Gurnal  as  poor  Byron 
did  to  Moore,  "  Damn  it,  Tom,  don't  be  poetical." 

Memorandum. — I  received  some  time  since  from  Mr.  Rid- 
doch,  of  Falkirk,  a  sort  of  iron  mallet,  said  to  have  been 
found  in  the  ruins  of  Grame's  Dike ;  there  it  was  reclaimed 
about  three  months  since  by  the  gentleman  on  whose  lands 
it  was  found,  a  Doctor — by  a  very  polite  letter  from  his  man 
of  business.  Having  unluckily  mislaid  his  letter,  and  being 
totally  unable  either  to  recollect  the  name  of  the  proprietor 
or  the  professional  gentleman,  I  returned  this  day  the  piece 
of  antiquity  to  Mr.  Riddoch,  who  sent  it  to  me.  Wrote 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  153 

at  the  same  time  to  Tom  Grahame  of  Airth,  mentioning 
what  I  had  done.  "  Touch  my  honour,  touch  my  life — there 
is  the  spoon." 1 

March  14. — J.  B.  called  this  morning  to  take  leave,  and 
receive  directions  about  proofs,  etc.  Talks  of  the  uproar 
about  Malacki ;  but  I  am  tired  of  Malachi — the  humour  is 
off,  and  I  have  said  what  I  wanted  to  say,  and  put  the 
people  of  Scotland  on  their  guard,  as  well  as  Ministers,  if 
they  like  to  be  warned.  They  are  gradually  destroying 
what  remains  of  nationality,  and  making  the  country  tabula 
rasa  for  doctrines  of  bold  innovation.  Their  loosening  and 
grinding  down  all  those  peculiarities  which  distinguished 
us  as  Scotsmen  will  throw  the  country  into  a  state  in  which 
it  will  be  universally  turned  to  democracy,  and  instead  of 
canny  Saunders,  they  will  have  a  very  dangerous  North 
British  neighbourhood. 

Some  [English]  lawyer  expressed  to  Lord  Elibank  an 
opinion,  that  at  the  Union  the  English  law  should  have  been 
extended  all  over  Scotland.  "  I  cannot  say  how  that  might 
have  answered  our  purpose,"  said  Lord  Patrick,  who  was  never 
nonsuited  for  want  of  an  answer,  "  but  it  would  scarce  have 
suited  yours,  since  by  this  time  the  Aberdeen  Advocates* 
would  have  possessed  themselves  of  all  the  business  in 
Westminster  Hall." 

What  a  detestable  feeling  this  fluttering  of  the  heart  is ! 
I  know  it  is  nothing  organic,  and  that  it  is  entirely  nervous ; 
but  the  sickening  effects  of  it  are  dispiriting  to  a  degree. 
Is  it  the  body  brings  it  on  the  mind,  or  the  mind  that  inflicts 
it  upon  the  body  ?  I  cannot  tell ;  but  it  is  a  severe  price  to 

1  Apropos  of  the  old  Scotch  lady  duced  the  article,  with  "  Touch  my 

who  had  surreptitiously  pocketed  a  honour,"  etc. 
silver  spoon,  one  of  a  set  of  a  dozen 

which  were  being  passed  round  for  2  The  Attorneys  of  Aberdeen  are 

examination  in  an  auction  room,  styled    advocates.      This    valuable 

Suspicion  resting  on  her,  she  was  privilege  is  said  to  have  been  be- 

asked  to  allow  her  person  to  be  stowed  at  an  early  period  by  some 

searched,  but  she  indignantly  pro-  (sportive)  monarch. — J.  G.  L. 


154  JOURNAL.  [MARCH 

pay  for  the  Fata  Morgana  with  which  Fancy  sometimes 
amuses  men  of  warm  imaginations.  As  to  body  and  mind, 
I  fancy  I  might  as  well  inquire  whether  the  fiddle  or  fiddle- 
stick makes  the  tune.  In  youth  this  complaint  used  to  throw 
me  into  involuntary  passions  of  causeless  tears.  But  I  will 
drive  it  away  in  the  country  by  exercise.  I  wish  I  had  been 
a  mechanic :  a  turning-lathe  or  a  chest  of  tools  would  have 
been  a  God-send;  for  thought  makes  the  access  of  melancholy 
rather  worse  than  better.  I  have  it  seldom,  thank  God,  and, 
I  believe,  lightly,  in  comparison  of  others. 

It  was  the  fiddle  after  all  was  out  of  order,  not  the 
fiddlestick;  the  body,  not  the  mind.  I  walked  out;  met 
Mrs.  Skene,  who  took  a  turn  with  me  in  Princes  Street. 
Bade  Constable  and  Cadell  farewell,  and  had  a  brisk  walk 
home,  which  enables  me  to  face  the  desolation  here  with 
more  spirit.  News  from  Sophia.  She  has  had  the  luck  to 
get  an  anti-druggist  in  a  Dr.  Gooch,  who  prescribes  care  for 
Johnnie  instead  of  drugs,  and  a  little  home-brewed  ale 
instead  of  wine ;  and,  like  a  liberal  physician,  supplies  the 
medicine  he  prescribes.  As  for  myself,  while  I  have  scarce 
stirred  to  take  exercise  for  four  or  five  days,  no  wonder  I 
had  the  mulligrubs.  It  is  an  awful  sensation  though,  and 
would  have  made  an  enthusiast  of  me,  had  I  indulged  my 
imagination  on  devotional  subjects.  I  have  been  always 
careful  to  place  my  mind  in  the  most  tranquil  posture  which 
it  can  assume  during  my  private  exercises  of  devotion. 

I  have  amused  myself  occasionally  very  pleasantly  during 
the  last  few  days,  by  reading  over  Lady  Morgan's  novel  of 
O'Donnel,1  which  has  some  striking  and  beautiful  passages  of 
situation  and  description,  and  in  the  comic  part  is  very  rich 
and  entertaining.  I  do  not  remember  being  so  much  pleased 
with  it  at  first.  There  is  a  want  of  story,  always  fatal  to  a 

1  This  clever  book  was  published  wolf-hound,    it  would    have   corn- 
in  1814  at  the  same  time  as  Waverley.  mended  itself  to  Scott.    The  author- 
Had  it  contained  nothing  else  than  ess  died  in  1859. 
the  sketch  of  Bran,  the  great  Irish 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  155 

book  the  first  reading — and  it  is  well  if  it  gets  a  chance  of  a 
second.  Alas !  poor  novel !  Also  read  again,  and  for  the 
third  time  at  least,  Miss  Austen's  very  finely  written  novel 
of  Pride  and  Prejudice.  That  young  lady  had  a  talent  for 
describing  the  involvements  and  feelings  and  characters  of 
ordinary  life,  which  is  to  me  the  most  wonderful  I  ever  met 
with.  The  Big  Bow-wow  strain  I  can  do  myself  like  any 
now  going ;  but  the  exquisite  touch,  which  renders  ordinary 
commonplace  things  and  characters  interesting,  from  the 
truth  of  the  description  and  the  sentiment,  is  denied  to  me. 
What  a  pity  such  a  gifted  creature  died  so  early ! l 

March  15. — This  morning  I  leave  No.  39  Castle  Street, 
for  the  last  time.  "  The  cabin  was  convenient,"  and  habit 
had  made  it  agreeable  to  me.  I  never  reckoned  upon  a  change 
in  this  particular  so  long  as  I  held  an  office  in  the  Court 
of  Session.  In  all  my  former  changes  of  residence  it  was 
from  good  to  better;  this  is  retrograding.  I  leave  this 
house  for  sale,  and  I  cease  to  be  an  Edinburgh  citizen,  in  the 
sense  of  being  a  proprietor,  which  my  father  and  I  have 
been  for  sixty  years  at  least.  So  farewell,  poor  39,  and  may 
you  never  harbour  worse  people  than  those  who  now  leave 
you!  Not  to  desert  the  Lares  all  at  once,  Lady  S.  and 
Anne  remain  till  Sunday.  As  for  me,  I  go,  as  aforesaid, 

this  morning. 

"HatilmitulidhM "2 

Abbotsford,  9  at  night. — The  naturally  unpleasant  feelings 
which  influenced  me  in  my  ejectment,  for  such  it  is  virtually, 
readily  evaporated  in  the  course  of  the  journey,  though  I 
had  no  pleasanter  companions  than  Mrs.  Mackay,  the  house- 
keeper, and  one  of  the  maids ;  and  I  have  a  shyness  of  dis- 

1  It  is  worth  noting  that  a  quarter  Scott  had  already  criticised  Miss 

of  a  century  after  Sir  Walter  had  Austen   in   the  27th  No.   of   the 

written  these  lines,  we  find  Mac-  Quarterly.    She  died  in  1817. 
aulay  stating  that,  in  his  opinion, 

"there  are  in  the  world  no  compo-         2  "I     return     no    more,"  —  see 

sitions  which  approach  nearer  per-  Mackrimmon's  Lament  by  Scott. — 

fection."  Poetical  Work*,  vol.  xi.  p.  332. 


156  JOURNAL.  [MAKCH 

position,  which  looks  like  pride,  but  it  is  not,  which  makes 
me  awkward  in  speaking  to  my  household  domestics.  With 
an  out-of-doors  labourer,  or  an  old  woman  gathering  sticks, 
I  can  talk  for  ever.  I  was  welcomed  here  on  my  arrival  by 
the  tumult,  great  of  men  and  dogs,  all  happy  to  see  me.  One 
of  my  old  labourers  killed  by  the  fall  of  a  stone  working  at 
Gattonside  Bridge.  Old  Will  Straiten,  my  man  of  wisdom 
and  proverbs,  also  dead.  He  was  entertaining  from  his 
importance  and  self-conceit,  but  really  a  sensible  old  man. 
When  he  heard  of  my  misfortunes,  he  went  to  bed,  and  said 
he  would  not  rise  again,  and  kept  his  word.  He  was  very 
infirm  when  I  last  saw  him.  Tom  Purdie  in  great  glory, 
being  released  from  all  farm  duty,  and  destined  to  attend 
the  woods,  and  be  my  special  assistant.  The  gardener  Bogie 
is  to  take  care  of  what  small  farm  we  have  left,  which  little 
would  make  me  give  up  entirely. 

March  16. — Pleasant  days  make  short  Journals,  and  I 
have  little  to  say  to-day.  I  wrote  in  the  morning  at  Wood- 
stock ;  walked  from  one  till  four ;  was  down  at  Huntly  Burn 
and  paid  my  respects  to  the  ladies.  The  spring  seems 
promising,  and  everything  in  great  order.  Visited  Will 
Straiton's  widow,  who  squeezed  out  among  many  tears  a 
petition  for  a  house.  I  do  not  think  I  shall  let  her  have 
one,  as  she  has  a  bad  temper,  but  I  will  help  her  otherwise ; 
she  is  greedy  besides,  as  was  the  defunct  philosopher 
William.  In  a  year  or  two  I  shall  have  on  the  toft  field  a 
gallant  show  of  extensive  woodland,  sweeping  over  the  hill, 
and  its  boundaries  carefully  concealed.  In  the  evening, 
after  dinner,  read  Mrs.  Charlotte  Smith's  novel  of  Desmond 1 
— decidedly  the  worst  of  her  compositions. 

March  1 7. — Sent  off  a  packet  to  J.  B. ;  only  three  pages 
copy,  so  must  work  hard  for  a  day  or  two.  I  wish  I  could 

1  Published  as  far  back  as  1792.      Scott's  Miscellaneous  Prose   Works, 
An  appreciative  criticism  on  Mrs.      vol.  iv.  pp.  58-70. 
Smith's    works  will    be  found    in 


1826.]  JOUIINAL.  157 

wind  up  my  bottom  handsomely — an  odd  but  accredited 
phrase.  The  conclusion  will  be  luminous ;  we  must  try  to 
make  it  dashing.  Go  spin,  you  jade,  go  spin.  Have  a  good 
deal  to  do  between-hands  in  sorting  up  the  newly  arrived 
accession  of  books. 

I  need  not  have  exulted  so  soon  in  having  attained  ease 
and  quiet.  I  am  robbed  of  both  with  a  vengeance.  A 
letter  from  Lockhart,  with  one  enclosed  from  Sophia, 
announces  the  medical  people  think  the  child  is  visibly 
losing  strength,  that  its  walking  becomes  more  difficult,  and, 
in  short,  that  the  spine  seems  visibly  affected.  They  recom- 
mend tepid  baths  in  sea- water,  so  Sophia  has  gone  down  to 
Brighton,  leaving  Lockhart  in  town,  who  is  to  visit  her  once 
a  week.  Here  is  my  worst  augury  verified.1  The  bitterness 
of  this  probably  impending  calamity  is  extreme.  The  child 
was  almost  too  good  for  this  world ;  beautiful  in  features ; 
and,  though  spoiled  by  every  one,  having  one  of  the  sweetest 
tempers,  as  well  as  the  quickest  intellect  I  ever  saw ;  a  sense 
of  humour  quite  extraordinary  in  a  child,  and,  owing  to  the 
general  notice  which  was  taken  of  him,  a  great  deal  more 
information  than  suited  his  years.  He  was  born  in  the 
eighth  month,  and  such  children  are  never  strong — seldom 
long-lived.  I  look  on  this  side  and  that,  and  see  nothing 
but  protracted  misery,  a  crippled  frame,  and  decayed  con- 
stitution, occupying  the  attention  of  his  parents  for  years, 
and  dying  at  the  end  of  that  period,  when  their  hearts  were 
turned  on  him ;  or  the  poor  child  may  die  before  Sophia's 
confinement,  and  that  may  again  be  a  dangerous  and  bad 
affair ;  or  she  may,  by  increase  of  attention  to  him,  injure 
her  own  health.  In  short,  to  trace  into  how  many  branches 
such  a  misery  may  flow  is  impossible.  The  poor  dear  love 
had  so  often  a  slow  fever,  that  when  it  pressed  its  little  lips 
to  mine,  I  always  foreboded  to  my  own  heart  what  all  I  fear 
are  now  aware  of. 

1  See  this  Journal,  2  December  last. 


158  JOURNAL.  [MAKCH 

Lockhart  writes  me  that  Croker  is  the  author  of  the 
Letters  in  the  Courier  against  Mcdachi,  and  that  Canning  is 
to  make  another  attack  on  me  in  the  House  of  Commons.1 
These  things  would  make  a  man  proud.  I  will  not  answer, 
because  I  must  show  up  Sir  William  Rae,  and  even  Lord 
Melville,  and  I  have  done  enough  to  draw  public  attention, 
which  is  all  I  want.  Let  them  call  me  ungrateful,  unkind, 
and  all  sorts  of  names,  so  they  keep  their  own  fingers  free  of 
this  most  threatening  measure.  It  is  very  curious  that  each  of 
these  angry  friends — Melville,  Canning,  and  Croker — has  in 
former  days  appealed  to  me  in  confidence  against  each  other. 

While  I  smoked  my  cigar  after  dinner,  my  mind  has 
been  running  into  four  threads  of  bitter  fancies,  or  rather 
into  three  decidedly  bitter,  and  one  that  is  indifferent. 
There  is  the  distress  incumbent  on  the  country  by  these 
most  untimely  proceedings,  which  I  would  stop  with  my 
life  were  that  adequate  to  prevent  them.  2d,  there  is  the 
unpleasant  feeling  of  seeing  a  number  of  valued  friends  pass 
from  me;  that  I  cannot  help.  3d,  there  is  the  gnawing 
misery  about  that  sweet  child  and  its  parents.  4th,  there 
is  the  necessity  of  pursuing  my  own  labours,  for  which  per- 
haps I  ought  to  be  thankful,  since  it  always  wrenches  one's 
mind  aside  from  what  it  must  dwell  on  with  pain.  It  is 
odd  that  the  state  of  excitation  with  me  rather  increases 
than  abates  the  power  of  labour,  I  must  finish  Woodstock 
well  if  I  can  :  otherwise  how  the  Philistines  will  rejoice ! 

March  18. — Slept  indifferently,  and  under  the  influence 
of  Queen  Mab,  seldom  auspicious  to  me,  dreamed  of  reading 
the  tale  of  the  Prince  of  the  Black  Marble  Islands  to  little 

1  The  letters  of  Afalachi  were  however,  declared  that  he  did 

treated  by  some  members  of  the  not  dread  "the  flashing  of  that 

House  of  Commons  as  incentives  Highland  claymore  though  evoked 

to  rebellion,  and  senators  gravely  from  its  scabbard  by  the  incanta- 

averred  that  not  many  years  ago  tions  of  the  mightiest  magician 

they  would  have  subjected  the  of  the  age."— Speech  of  Rt.  Hon. 

author  to  condign  punishment.  F.  J.  Robinson. 

The  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer, 


1826]  JOUKNAL.  159 

Johnnie,  extended  on  a  paralytic  chair,  and  yet  telling  all 
his  pretty  stories  about  Ha-papa,  as  he  calls  me,  and  Chiefs- 
wood — and  waked  to  think  I  should  see  the  little  darling  no 
more,  or  see  him  as  a  thing  that  had  better  never  have  existed. 
Oh,  misery !  misery !  that  the  best  I  can  wish  for  him  is  early 
death,  with  all  the  wretchedness  to  his  parents  that  is  like 
to  ensue !  I  intended  to  have  stayed  at  home  to-day ;  but 
Tom  more  wisely  had  resolved  that  I  should  walk,  and  hung 
about  the  window  with  his  axe  and  my  own  in  his  hand  till 
I  turned  out  with  him,  and  helped  to  cut  some  fine  paling. 

March  1 9. — I  have  a  most  melancholy  letter  from  Anne. 
Lady  S.,  the  faithful  and  true  companion  of  my  fortunes, 
good  and  bad,  for  so  many  years,  has,  but  with  difficulty, 
been  prevailed  on  to  see  Dr.  Abercrombie,  and  his  opinion 
is  far  from  favourable.  Her  asthmatic  complaints  are  fast 
terminating  in  hydropsy,  as  I  have  long  suspected  ;  yet  the 
avowal  of  the  truth  and  its  probable  consequences  are  over- 
whelming. They  are  to  stay  a  little  longer  in  town  to  try 
the  effects  of  a  new  medicine.  On  Wednesday  they  propose 
to  return  hither — a  new  affliction,  where  there  was  enough  be- 
fore; yet  her  constitution  is  so  good  that  if  she  will  be  guided 
by  advice,  things  may  be  yet  ameliorated.  God  grant  it !  for 
really  these  misfortunes  come  too  close  upon  each  other. 

A  letter  from  Croker  of  a  very  friendly  tone  and  tenor, 
which  I  will  answer  accordingly,  not  failing,  however,  to  let 
him  know  that  if  I  do  not  reply  it  is  not  for  fear  of  his 
arguments  or  raillery,  far  less  from  diffidence  in  my  cause. 
I  hope  and  trust  it  will  do  good.1 

Maxpopple  2  and  two  of  his  boys  arrived  to  take  part  of 
my  poor  dinner.  I  fear  the  little  fellows  had  little  more 
than  the  needful,  but  they  had  all  I  had  to  give  them. 

1  Both    letters     are   quoted    in  vol.  i.  pp.  315-319. 
Lockhart's  Life,  vol.  viii.  pp.  299- 

305.  See  also  Croker's  Correspond-  2  W.  Scott,  Esq. ,  afterwards  of 
ence  and  Diaries,  edited  by  Louis  J.  Raeburn,  Sir  Walter's  Sheriff-sub- 
Jennings,  3  vols.  8vo,  Lond.  1884,  stitute. 


160  JOUENAL.  [MARCH 

I  wrote  a  good  deal  to-day  notwithstanding  heavy 
thoughts. 

March  20. — Despatched  proofs  and  copy  this  morning ; 
and  Swanston,  the  carpenter,  coming  in,  I  made  a  sort  of 
busy  idle  day  of  it  with  altering  and  hanging  pictures  and 
prints,  to  find  room  for  those  which  came  from  Edinburgh, 
and  by  dint  of  being  on  foot  from  ten  to  near  five,  put  all 
things  into  apple-pie  order.  What  strange  beings  we  are  ! 
The  serious  duties  I  have  on  hand  cannot  divert  my  mind 
from  the  most  melancholy  thoughts ;  and  yet  the  talking 
with  these  workmen,  and  the  trifling  occupation  which  they 
give  me,  serves  to  dissipate  my  attention.  The  truth  is,  I 
fancy  that  a  body  under  the  impulse  of  violent  motion  can- 
not be  stopped  or  forced  back,  but  may  indirectly  be  urged 
into  a  different  channel.  In  the  evening  I  read,  and  sent  off 
my  Sheriff-Court  processes. 

I  have  a  sort  of  grudging  to  give  reasons  why  Maladii 
does  not  reply  to  the  answers  which  have  been  sent  forth. 
I  don't  know — I  am  strongly  tempted — but  I  won't.  To  drop 
the  tone  might  seem  mean,  and  perhaps  to  maintain  it  would 
only  exasperate  the  quarrel,  without  producing  any  bene- 
ficial results,  and  might  be  considered  as  a  fresh  insult  by 
my  alienated  friends,  so  on  the  whole  I  won't. 

The  thing  has  certainly  had  more  effect  than  it  deserves ; 
and  I  suspect  my  Ministerial  friends,  if  they  love  me  less, 
will  not  hold  me  cheaper  for  the  fight  I  have  made.  I  am 
far  from  saying  oderint  dum  emerint,  but  there  is  a  great 
difference  betwixt  that  and  being  a  mere  protege",  a  poor 
broken-down  man,  who  was  to  be  assisted  when  existing 
circumstances,  that  most  convenient  of  all  apologies  and 
happiest  of  all  phrases,  would  permit. 

March  21. — Perused  an  attack  on  myself,  done  with  as 
much  ability  as  truth,  by  no  less  a  man  than  Joseph  Hume, 
the  night-work  man  of  the  House  of  Commons,  who  lives 
upon  petty  abuses,  and  is  a  very  useful  man  by  so  doing.  He 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  161 

has  had  the  kindness  to  say  that  I  am  interested  in  keeping 
up  the  taxes  ;  I  wish  I  had  anything  else  to  do  with  them 
than  to  pay  them.  But  he  lies,  and  is  an  ass,  and  not  worth 
a  man's  thinking  about.  Joseph  Hume,  indeed! — I  say 
Joseph  Hum, — and  could  add  a  Swiftian  rhyme,  but  for- 
bear. 

Busy  in  unpacking  and  repacking.  I  wrote  five  pages  of 
Woodstock,  which  work  begins 

"  To  appropinque  an  end."  l 

March  22. — A  letter  from  Lord  Downshire's  man  of 
business  about  funds  supposed  to  belong  to  my  wife,  or  to  the 
estate  of  my  late  brother-in-law.  The  possessor  of  the  secret 
wants  some  reward.  If  any  is  granted,  it  should  be  a  per- 
centage on  the  net  sum  received,  with  the  condition  no  cure 
— no  pay.  I  expect  Lady  S.,  and  from  Anne's  last  letter 
hope  to  find  her  better  than  the  first  anticipation  led  me  to 
dread. 

Sent  off  proofs  and  copy,  and  shall  indulge  a  little  leisure 
to-day  to  collect  my  ideas  and  stretch  my  limbs.  I  am 
again  far  before  the  press. 

March  23. — Lady  Scott  arrived  yesterday  to  dinner.  She 
was  better  than  I  expected,  but  Anne,  poor  soul,  looked  very 
poorly,  and  had  been  much  worried  with  the  fatigue  and 
discomfort  of  the  last  week.  Lady  S.  takes  the  digitalis, 
and,  as  she  thinks,  with  advantage,  though  the  medicine 
makes  her  very  sick.  Yet,  on  the  whole,  things  are  better 
than  my  gloomy  apprehensions  had  anticipated. 

I  wrote  to  Lockhart  and  to  Lord  Downshire's  Agent, — 
G.  Handley,  Esq.,  Pentonville,  London. 

Took  a  good  brushing  walk,  but  not  till  I  had  done  a 
good  task. 

March  24. — Sent  off  copy,  proofs,  etc.  J.  B.  clamorous 
for  a  motto. 

It  is  foolish  to  encourage  people  to  expect  mottoes  and 

1  Hudibras. — J.  o.  L. 
L 


162  JOURNAL.  [MARCH 

such-like  decoraments.  You  have  no  credit  for  success  in 
finding  them,  and  there  is  a  disgrace  in  wanting  them.  It 
is  like  being  in  the  habit  of  showing  feats  of  strength, 
which  you  at  length  gain  praise  by  accomplishing,  while 
some  shame  occurs  in  failure. 

March  25. — The  end  winds  out  well  enough.  I  have 
almost  finished  to-night ;  indeed  I  might  have  done  so  had  I 
been  inclined,  but  I  had  a  walk  in  a  hurricane  of  snow  for 
two  hours  and  feel  a  little  tired.  Miss  Margaret  Ferguson 
came  to  dinner  with  us.1 

March  26. — Here  is  a  disagreeable  morning,  snowing  and 
hailing,  with  gleams  of  bright  sunshine  between,  and  all  the 
ground  white,  and  all  the  air  frozen.  I  don't  like  this 
jumbling  of  weather.  It  is  ungenial,  and  gives  chilblains. 
Besides,  with  its  whiteness,  and  its  coldness,  and  its  glister, 
and  its  discomfort,  it  resembles  that  most  disagreeable  of 
all  things,  a  vain,  cold,  empty,  beautiful  woman,  who  has 
neither  mind  nor  heart,  but  only  features  like  a  doll.  I  do 
not  know  what  is  so  like  this  disagreeable  day,  when  the 
sun  is  so  bright,  and  yet  so  uninfluential,  that 

"  One  may  gaze  upon  its  beams 
Till  he  is  starved  with  cold." 

No  matter,  it  will  serve  as  well  as  another  day  to  finish 
Woodstock.  Walked  out  to  the  lake,  and  coquetted  with  this 
disagreeable  weather,  whereby  I  catch  chilblains  in  my 
fingers  and  cold  in  my  head.  Fed  the  swans. 

Finished  Woodstock,  however,  cum  tota  sequela  of  title-page, 
introduction,  etc.,  and  so,  as  Dame  Fortune  says  in  Quevedo, 
"Go  wheel,  and  may  the  devil  drive  thee."2 

1  One    of    Sir    Walter's    kindly  described    as    extremely    like    her 

"weird    sisters"   and    neighbours,  brother  Sir  Adam  in  the  turn  of 

daughters   of   Professor  Ferguson,  thought  and  of  humour. — See  Life, 

They  had  occupied  the  house   at  vol.  vi.  p.  322. 
Toftfield  (on  which  Scott  at   the 

ladies'  request  bestowed  the  name  2  Fortune  in  her   Wits,   and  the 

of  Huntly  Burn)  from  the  spring  Hour  of  all  Men,  Quevedo's  Works, 

of  1818.     Miss  Margaret  has  been  Edin.  1798,  vol.  iii.  p.  107. 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  163 

March  27. — Another  bright  cold  day.  I  answered  two 
modest  requests  from  widow  ladies.  One,  whom  I  had  al- 
ready assisted  in  some  law  business,  on  the  footing  of  her 
having  visited  my  mother,  requested  me  to  write  to  Mr.  Peel, 
saying,  on  her  authority,  that  her  second  son,  a  youth  of  in- 
finite merit  and  accomplishment,  was  fit  for  any  situation  in 
a  public  office,  and  that  I  requested  he  might  be  provided 
accordingly.  Another  widowed  dame,  whose  claim  is  having 
read  Marmion  and  the  Lady  of  the  Lake,  besides  a  promise 
to  read  all  my  other  works — Gad,  it  is  a  rash  engagement ! — 
demands  that  I  shall  either  pay  £200  to  get  her  cub  into 
some  place  or  other,  or  settle  him  in  a  seminary  of  educa- 
tion. Really  this  is  very  much  after  the  fashion  of  the 
husbandman  of  Miguel  Turra's  requests  of  Sancho  when 
Governor.1  "  Have  you  anything  else  to  ask,  honest  man  ? " 
quoth  Sancho.  But  what  are  the  demands  of  an  honest  man 
to  those  of  an  honest  woman,  and  she  a  widow  to  boot  ?  T 
do  believe  your  destitute  widow,  especially  if  she  hath  a 
charge  of  children,  and  one  or  two  fit  for  patronage,  is  one 
of  the  most  impudent  animals  living. 

Went  to  Galashiels  and  settled  the  dispute  about  Sandie's 
walL 

March  28. — We  have  now  been  in  solitude  for  some 
time — myself  nearly  totally  so,  excepting  at. meals,  or  on  a 
call  as  yesterday  from  Henry  and  William  Scott  of  Harden. 
One  is  tempted  to  ask  himself,  knocking  at  the  door  of  his 
own  heart,  Do  you  love  this  extreme  loneliness  ?  I  can 
answer  conscientiously,  /  do.  The  love  of  solitude  was  with 
me  a  passion  of  early  youth ;  when  in  my  teens,  I  used  to 
fly  from  company  to  indulge  in  visions  and  airy  castles  of 
my  own,  the  disposal  of  ideal  wealth,  and  the  exercise  of 
imaginary  power.  This  feeling  prevailed  even  till  I  was 
eighteen,  when  love  and  ambition  awakening  with  other 
passions  threw  me  more  into  society,  from  which  I  have, 
1  Don  Quixote,  Pt.  n.  cap.  47. 


164  JOURNAL.  [MAKCH 

however,  at  times  withdrawn  myself,  and  have  been  always 
even  glad  to  do  so.  I  have  risen  from  a  feast  satiated ;  and 
unless  it  be  one  or  two  persons  of  very  strong  intellect,  or 
whose  spirits  and  good-humour  amuse  me,  I  wish  neither  to 
see  the  high,  the  low,  nor  the  middling  class  of  society.  This 
is  a  feeling  without  the  least  tinge  of  misanthropy,  which 
I  always  consider  as  a  kind  of  blasphemy  of  a  shocking 
description.  If  G-od  bears  with  the  very  worst  of  us,  we  may 
surely  endure  each  other.  If  thrown  into  society,  I  always 
have,  and  always  will  endeavour  to  bring  pleasure  with  me, 
at  least  to  show  willingness  to  please.  But  for  all  this  "  I 
had  rather  live  alone,"  and  I  wish  my  appointment,  so  con- 
venient otherwise,  did  not  require  my  going  to  Edinburgh. 
But  this  must  be,  and  in  my  little  lodging  I  will  be  lonely 
enough. 

Had  a  very  kind  letter  from  Croker  disowning  the  least 
idea  of  personal  attack  in  his  answer  to  Malacki. 

Reading  at  intervals  a  novel  called  Grariby ;  one  of  that 
very  difficult  class  which  aspires  to  describe  the  actual  cur- 
rent of  society,  whose  colours  are  so  evanescent  that  it  is 
difficult  to  fix  them  on  the  canvas.  It  is  well  written,  but 
over-laboured — too  much  attempt  to  put  the  reader  exactly 
up  to  the  thoughts  and  sentiments  of  the  parties.  The 
women  do  this  better :  Edgeworth,  Ferrier,  Austen  have  all 
had  their  portraits  of  real  society,  far  superior  to  anything 
man,  vain  man,  has  produced  of  the  like  nature.1 

March  29. — Worked  in  the  morning.  Had  two  visits 
from  Colonels  Russell  and  Ferguson.  Walked  from  one 
till  half-past  four.  A  fine,  flashy,  disagreeable  day ;  snow- 
clouds  sweeping  past  among  sunshine,  driving  down  the 
valley,  and  whitening  the  country  behind  them. 

Mr.  Gibson  came  suddenly  in  after  dinner.     Brought 

1  Oranby  was  written  by  a  young  First  Earl  of  Clarendon,  3  vols.  8vo, 

man,  Thos.  H.  Lister,  some  years  1837-38.      Mr.   Lister  died   in   his 

afterwards  known  as  the  author  of  41st  year  in  1842. 
The  Life  and  Administration  of  the 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  165 

very  indifferent  news  from  Constable's  house.  It  is  not 
now  hoped  that  they  will  pay  above  three  or  four  shil- 
lings in  the  pound.  Eobinson  supposed  not  to  be  much 
better. 

Mr.  G.  goes  to  London  immediately,  and  is  to  sell  Wood- 
stock to  Eobinson  if  he  can,  otherwise  to  those  who  will, 
John  Murray,  etc.  This  work  may  fail,  perhaps,  though 
better  than  some  of  its  predecessors.  If  so,  we  must  try 
some  new  manner.  I  think  I  could  catch  the  dogs  yet. 

A  beautiful  and  perfect  lunar  rainbow  to-night. 

March  30. — Mr.  Gibson  looks  unwell,  and  complains  of 
cold — bitter  bad  weather  for  his  travelling,  and  he  looks 
but  frail. 

These  indifferent  news  he  brought  me  affect  me  but  to  a 
little  degree.  It  is  being  too  confident  to  hope  to  ensure 
success  in  the  long  series  of  successive  struggles  which  lie 
before  me.  But  somehow,  I  do  fully  entertain  the  hope  of 
doing  a  good  deal. 

March  31. — 

"  He  walked  and  wrote  poor  soul,  what  then  ? 
Why  then,  he  wrote  and  walked  again." 

But  I  am  begun  Nap.  Bon.  again,  which  is  always 
a  change,  because  it  gives  a  good  deal  of  reading  and 
research,  whereas  Woodstock  and  such  like,  being  extempore 
from  my  mother-wit,  is  a  sort  of  spinning  of  the  brains,  of 
which  a  man  tires.  The  weather  seems  milder  to-day. 


APRIL. 

1. — Ex  imo  die  disce  omnes.  Rose  at  seven  or 
sooner,  studied,  and  wrote  till  breakfast  with  Anne,  about 
a  quarter  before  ten.  Lady  Scott  seldom  able  to  rise  till 
twelve  or  one.  Then  I  write  or  study  again  till  one.  At 
that  hour  to-day  I  drove  to  Huntly  Burn,  and  walked  home 
by  one  of  the  hundred  and  one  pleasing  paths  which  I  have 
made  through  the  woods  I  have  planted — now  chatting 
with  Tom  Purdie,  who  carries  my  plaid,  and  speaks  when  he 
pleases,  telling  long  stories  of  hits  and  misses  in  shooting 
twenty  years  back — sometimes  chewing  the  cud  of  sweet 
and  bitter  fancy — and  sometimes  attending  to  the  humours 
of  two  curious  little  terriers  of  the  Dandie  Dinmont  breed, 
together  with  a  noble  wolf-hound  puppy  which  Glengarry 
has  given  me  to  replace  Maida.  This  brings  me  down  to 
the  very  moment  I  do  tell — the  rest  is  prophetic.  I  will 
feel  sleepy  when  this  book  is  locked,  and  perhaps  sleep 
until  Dalgleish  brings  the  dinner  summons.  Then  I  will 
have  a  chat  with  Lady  S.  and  Anne ;  some  broth  or  soup,  a 
slice  of  plain  meat — and  man's  chief  business,  in  Dr. 
Johnson's  estimation,  is  briefly  despatched.  Half  an  hour 
with  my  family,  and  half  an  hour's  coquetting  with  a  cigar, 
a  tumbler  of  weak  whisky  and  water,  and  a  novel  perhaps, 
lead  on  to  tea,  which  sometimes  consumes  another  half  hour 
of  chat;  then  write  and  read  in  my  own  room  till  ten 
o'clock  at  night ;  a  little  bread  and  then  a  glass  of  porter, 
and  to  bed. 

And  this,  very  rarely  varied  by  a  visit  from  some  one, 
is  the  tenor  of  my  daily  life — and  a  very  pleasant   one 

16C 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  167 

indeed,  were  it  not  for  apprehensions  about  Lady  S.  and 
poor  Johnnie  Hugh.     The  former  will,  I  think,  do  well — 

for  the  latter — I  fear — I  fear 

April  2. — I  am  in  a  wayward  mood  this  morning.  I 
received  yesterday  the  last  proof-sheets  of  Woodstock,  and  I 
ought  to  correct  them.  Now,  this  ought  sounds  as  like  as 
possible  to  must,  and  must  I  cannot  abide.  I  would  go  to 
Prester  John's  country  of  free  good- will,  sooner  than  I  would 
must  it  to  Edinburgh.  Yet  this  is  all  folly,  and  silly  folly 
too  ;  and  so  must  shall  be  for  once  obeyed  after  I  have  thus 
written  myself  out  of  my  aversion  to  its  peremptory  sound. 
Corrected  the  said  proofs  till  twelve  o'clock — when  I  think 
I  will  treat  resolution,  not  to  a  dram,  as  the  drunken  fellow 
said  after  he  had  passed  the  dram-shop,  but  to  a  walk,  the 
rather  that  my  eyesight  is  somewhat  uncertain  and  waver- 
ing, I  think  it  must  be  from  the  stomach.  The  whole  page 
waltzes  before  my  eyes.  J.  B.  writes  gloomily  about  Wood- 
stock ;  but  commends  the  conclusion.  I  think  he  is  right. 
Besides,  my  manner  is  nearly  caught,  and,  like  Captain 
Bobadil,1 1  have  taught  nearly  a  hundred  gentlemen  to  fence 
very  nearly,  if  not  altogether,  as  well  as  myself.  I  will 
strike  out  something  new. 

April  3. — I  have  from  Ballantyne  and  Gibson  the  extra- 
ordinary and  gratifying  news  that  Woodstock  is  sold  for 
£8228  in  all,  ready  money — a  matchless  sum  for  less  than 
three  months'  work.2  If  Napoleon  does  as  well,  or  near  it, 
it  will  put  the  trust  affairs  in  high  flourish.  Four  or  five 
years  of  leisure  and  industry  would,  with  [such]  success, 
amply  replace  my  losses,  and  put  me  on  a  steadier  footing 
than  ever.  I  have  a  curious  fancy :  I  will  go  set  two  or 
three  acorns,  and  judge  by  their  success  in  growing  whether 
I  will  succeed  in  clearing  my  way  or  not.  I  have  a  little 

1  Ben  Jonson's  Every  Man  in  his  of  James  Ballantyne  &  Co.  's  credi- 

Hwmour,  Act  iv.  Sc.  5.  tors,  and  that  this  sum  includes  the 

a  The  reader  will  understand  cost  of  printing  the  first  edition  as 

that  the  Novel  was  sold  for  behoof  well  as  paper. — j.  G.  L. 


168  JOURNAL.  [APRIL 

toothache  keeps  me  from  working  much  to-day,  besides  I 
sent  off,  per  Blucher,  copy  for  Napoleon,  as  well  as  the 
d — d  proofs. 

A  blank  forenoon !  But  how  could  I  help  it,  Madam 
Duty  ?  I  was  not  lazy ;  on  my  soul  I  was  not.  I  did  not 
cry  for  half  holiday  for  the  sale  of  Woodstock.  But  in 
came  Colonel  Ferguson  with  Mrs.  Stewart  of  Blackhill,  or 
hall,  or  something,  and  I  must  show  her  the  garden,  pictures, 
etc.  This  lasts  till  one ;  and  just  as  they  are  at  their  lunch, 
and  about  to  go  off,  guard  is  relieved  by  the  Laird  and  Lady 
Harden,  and  Miss  Eliza  Scott — and  my  dear  Chief,  whom  I 
love  very  much,  though  a  little  obsidional  or  so,  remains 
till  three.  That  same  crown,  composed  of  the  grass  which 
grew  on  the  walls  of  besieged  places,  should  be  offered  to 
visitors  who  stay  above  an  hour  in  any  eident1  person's 
house.  Wrote  letters  this  evening. 

April  4. — Wrote  two  pages  in  the  morning.  Then  went 
to  Ashestiel  in  the  sociable,  with  Colonel  Ferguson.  Found 
my  cousin  Eussell  settled  kindly  to  his  gardening  and  his 
projects.  He  seems  to  have  brought  home  with  him  the 
enviable  talent  of  being  interested  and  happy  in  his  own 
place.  Ashestiel  looks  worst,  I  think,  at  this  period  of  the 
year ;  but  is  a  beautiful  place  in  summer,  where  I  passed 
nine  happy  years.  Did  I  ever  pass  unhappy  years  any- 
where? None  that  I  remember,  save  those  at  the  Higli 
School,  which  I  thoroughly  detested  on  account  of  the 
confinement.  I  disliked  serving  in  my  father's  office,  too, 
from  the  same  hatred  to  restraint.  In  other  respects,  I  have 
had  unhappy  days  —  unhappy  weeks  —  even,  on  one  or 
two  occasions,  unhappy  months ;  but  Fortune's  finger  has 
never  been  able  to  play  a  dirge  on  me  for  a  quarter  of 
a  year  together. 

I  am  sorry  to  see  the  Peel-wood,  and  other  natural 
coppice,  decaying  and  abridged  about  Ashestiel — 

1  Eident,  i.e.  eagerly  diligent. — J.  G.  L. 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  169 

'  The  horrid  plough  has  razed  the  green, 

Where  once  niy  children  play  'd  ; 
The  axe  has  fell'd  the  hawthorn  screen, 
The  schoolboy's  summer  shade.  1 

There  was  a  very  romantic  pasturage  called  the  Cow-park, 
which  I  was  particularly  attached  to,  from  its  wild  and 
sequestered  character.  Having  been  part  of  an  old  wood 
which  had  been  cut  down,  it  was  full  of  copse — hazel,  and 
oak,  and  all  sorts  of  young  trees,  irregularly  scattered  over 
fine  pasturage,  and  affording  a  hundred  intricacies  so 
delicious  to  the  eye  and  the  imagination.  But  some  mis- 
judging friend  had  cut  down  and  cleared  away  without 
mercy,  and  divided  the  varied  and  sylvan  scene,  which  was 
divided  by  a  little  rivulet,  into  the  two  most  formal  things 
in  nature — a  thriving  plantation,  many-angled  as  usual, 
and  a  park  laid  down  in  grass ;  wanting  therefore  the  rich 
graminivorous  variety  which  Nature  gives  its  carpet,  and 
having  instead  a  braird  of  six  days'  growth — lean  and 
hungry  growth  too — of  ryegrass  and  clover.  As  for  the 
rill,  it  stagnates  in  a  deep  square  ditch,  which  silences  its 
prattle,  and  restrains  its  meanders  with  a  witness.  The 
original  scene  was,  of  course,  imprinted  still  deeper  on 
KusselTs  mind  than  mine,  and  I  was  glad  to  see  he  was 
intensely  sorry  for  the  change. 

April  5. — Eose  late  in  the  morning,  past  eight,  to  give 
the  cold  and  toothache  time  to  make  themselves  scarce, 
which  they  have  obligingly  done.  Yesterday  every  tooth 
on  the  right  side  of  my  head  was  absolutely  waltzing.  I 
would  have  drawn  by  the  half  dozen,  but  country  dentists 
are  not  to  be  lippened  to.2  To-day  all  is  quiet,  but  a  little 
swelling  and  stiffness  in  the  jaw.  Went  to  Chief swood  at 
one,  and  marked  with  regret  forty  trees  indispensably 
necessary  for  paling — much  like  drawing  a  tooth  ;  they  are 

1  These     lines    slightly    altered  -  Lippened,    i.e.  relied  upon. — 

from  Logan. — J.  o.  L.  j.  o.  L. 


170  JOURNAL.  [APRIL 

wanted  and  will  never  be  better,  but  I  am  avaricious  of 
grown  trees,  having  so  few. 

Worked  a  fair  task  ;  dined,  and  read  Clapperton's  journey 
and  Denham's  into  Bornou.  Very  entertaining,  and  less 
botheration  about  mineralogy,  botany,  and  so  forth,  than 
usual.  Pity  Africa  picks  up  so  many  brave  men,  however. 
Work  in  the  evening. 

April  6. — Wrote  in  the  morning.  Went  at  one  to 
Huntly  Burn,  where  I  had  the  great  pleasure  to  hear, 
through  a  letter  from  Sir  Adam,  that  Sophia  was  in  health, 
and  Johnnie  gaining  strength.  It  is  a  fine  exchange  from 
deep  and  aching  uncertainty  on  so  interesting  a  subject,  to 
the  little  spitfire  feeling  of  "Well,  btit  they  might  have 
taken  the  trouble  to  write";  but  so  wretched  a  corre- 
spondent as  myself  has  not  much  to  say,  so  I  will  just 
grumble  sufficiently  to  maintain  the  patriarchal  dignity. 

I  returned  in  time  to  work,  and  to  receive  a  shoal  of 
things  from  J.  B.  Among  others,  a  letter  from  an  Irish 
lady,  who,  for  i\\&l>caux  yeux,  which  I  shall  never  look  upon, 
desires  I  will  forthwith  send  her  all  the  Waverley  Novels, 
which  are  published,  with  an  order  to  furnish  her  with  all 
others  in  course  as  they  appear,  which  she  assures  me 
will  be  an  era  in  her  life.  She  may  find  out  some  other 
epocha. 

April  7. — Made  out  my  morning's  task ;  at  one  drove  to 
Chiefswood,  and  walked  home  by  the  Ehymer's  Glen,  Mar's 
Lee,  and  Haxell-Cleugh.  Took  me  three  hours.  The  heath 
gets  somewhat  heavier  for  me  every  year — but  never  mind, 
I  like  it  altogether  as  well  as  the  day  I  could  tread  it  best. 
My  plantations  are  getting  all  into  green  leaf,  especially  the 
larches,  if  theirs  may  be  called  leaves,  which  are  only  a  sort 
of  hair,  and  from  the  number  of  birds  drawn  to  these  wastes, 
I  may  congratulate  myself  on  having  literally  made  the 
desert  to  sing.  As  I  returned,  there  was,  in  the  phraseology 
of  that  most  precise  of  prigs  in  a  white  collarless  coat  and 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  171 

chapeau  bos,  Mister  Commissary  Ramsay — "  a  rather  dense 
inspissation  of  rain."     Deil  care. 

"  Lord,  who  would  live  turinoiled  in  the  Court, 
That  might  enjoy  such  quiet  walks  as  these  ?  " l 

Yet  misfortune  comes  our  way  too.  Poor  Laidlaw  lost  a 
fine  prattling  child  of  five  years  old  yesterday. 

It  is  odd  enough — Iden,  the  Kentish  Esquire,  has  just 
made  the  ejaculation  which  I  adopted  in  the  last  page,  when 
he  kills  Cade,  and  posts  away  up  to  Court  to  get  the  price 
set  upon  his  head.  Here  is  a  letter  come  from  Lockhart, 
full  of  Court  news,  and  all  sort  of  news, — best  is  his  wife  is 
well,  and  thinks  the  child  gains  in  health. 

Lockhart  erroneously  supposes  that  I  think  of  applying 
to  Ministers  about  Charles,  and  that  notwithstanding 
Croker's  terms  of  pacification  I  should  find  Malachi  stick 
in  my  way.  I  would  not  make  such  an  application  for 
millions ;  I  think  if  I  were  to  ask  patronage  it  would  [not] 
be  through  them,  for  some  time  at  least,  and  I  might  have 
better  access.2 

April  8. — We  expect  a  raid  of  folks  to  visit  us  this 
morning,  whom  we  must  have  dined  before  our  misfortunes. 
Save  time,  wine,  and  money,  these  misfortunes — and  so  far 
are  convenient  things.  Besides,  there  is  a  dignity  about 
them  when  they  come  only  like  the  gout  in  its  mildest 
shape,  to  authorise  diet  and  retirement,  the  night-gown  and 
the  velvet  shoe;  when  the  one  comes  to  chalkstones,  and 
the  other  to  prison,  though,  there  would  be  the  devil.  Or 
compare  the  effects  of  Sieur  Gout  and  absolute  poverty  upon 
the  stomach — the  necessity  of  a  bottle  of  laudanum  in  the 
one  case,  the  want  of  a  morsel  of  meat  in  the  other. 

Laidlaw's  infant,  which  died  on  Wednesday,  is  buried 
to-day.  The  people  coming  to  visit  prevent  my  going,  and  I 

1  2   King   Henry    VI. ,    Act   iv.     says — "My  interest,  as  you  might 
Sc.  10,  slightly  varied,  have  known,  lies  Windsor  way." — 

*  In  a  letter  of  the  same  day  he     J.  o.  L. 


172  JOURNAL.  [APRIL 

am  glad  of  it.  I  hate  funerals — always  did.  There  is  such 
a  mixture  of  mummery  with  real  grief — the  actual  mourner 
perhaps  heart-broken,  and  all  the  rest  making  solemn  faces, 
and  whispering  observations  on  the  weather  and  public 
news,  and  here  and  there  a  greedy  fellow  enjoying  the  cake 
and  wine.  To  me  it  is  a  farce  full  of  most  tragical  mirth, 
and  I  am  not  sorry  (like  Provost  Coulter l)  but  glad  that  I 
shall  not  see  my  own.  This  is  a  most  unfilial  tendency  of 
mine,  for  my  father  absolutely  loved  a  funeral ;  and  as  he 
was  a  man  of  a  fine  presence,  and  looked  the  mourner  well, 
he  was  asked  to  every  interment  of  distinction.  He  seemed 
to  preserve  the  list  of  a  whole  bead-roll  of  cousins,  merely 
for  the  pleasure  of  being  at  their  funerals,  which  he  was 
often  asked  to  superintend,  and  I  suspect  had  sometimes  to 
pay  for.  He  carried  me  with  him  as  often  as  he  could  to 
these  mortuary  ceremonies ;  but  feeling  I  was  not,  like  him, 
either  useful  or  ornamental,  I  escaped  as  often  as  I  could. 

I  saw  the  poor  child's  funeral  from  a  distance.  Ah,  that 
Distance !  What  a  magician  for  conjuring  up  scenes  of  joy 
or  sorrow,  smoothing  all  asperities,  reconciling  all  incon- 
gruities, veiling  all  absurdness,  softening  every  coarseness, 
doubling  every  effect  by  the  influence  of  the  imagination. 
A  Scottish  wedding  should  be  seen  at  a  distance ;  the  gay 
band  of  the  dancers  just  distinguished  amid  the  elderly 
group  of  the  spectators, — the  glass  held  high,  and  the 
distant  cheers  as  it  is  swallowed,  should  be  only  a  sketch, 
not  a  finished  Dutch  picture,  when  it  becomes  brutal  and 
boorish.  Scotch  psalmody,  too,  should  be  heard  from  a 
distance.  The  grunt  and  the  snuffle,  and  the  whine  and  the 
scream,  should  be  all  blended  in  that  deep  and  distant  sound. 

1  William  Coulter,  Lord  Provost  Scott  used  to  take  him  off  as  saying, 

of  Edinburgh,  died  in  office,  April  at  some  public  meeting,  "Gentle- 

1810,  and  was  said  to  have  been  men,  though  doomed  to  the  trade 

greatly  consoled  on  his  deathbed  of  a  stocking-weaver,  I  was  born 

by  the  prospect  of  so  grand  a  funeral  with  the  soul  of  a  Sheepio  "  (Scipio). 
as  must  needs  occur  in  his  case. — 


1826.]  JOUBNAL,  173 

which,  rising  and  falling  like  the  Eolian  harp,  may  have  some 
title  to  be  called  the  praise  of  our  Maker.  Even  so  the 
distant  funeral :  the  few  mourners  on  horseback,  with  their 
plaids  wrapped  around  them — the  father  heading  the  pro- 
cession as  they  enter  the  river,  and  pointing  out  the  ford  by 
which  his  darling  is  to  be  carried  on  the  last  long  road — not 
one  of  the  subordinate  figures  in  discord  with  the  general 
tone  of  the  incident — seeming  just  accessories,  and  no  more 
— this  is  affecting. 

April  9. — I  worked  at  correcting  proofs  in  the  morning, 
and,  what  is  harder,  at  correcting  manuscript,  which  fags  me 
excessively.  I  was  dead  sick  of  it  by  two  o'clock,  the  rather 
as  my  hand,  O  revered  "  Grurnal,"  be  it  said  between  our- 
selves, gets  daily  worse. 

Lockhart's  Review)-  Don't  like  his  article  on  Sheridan's 
life.  There  is  no  breadth  in  it,  no  general  views,  the  whole 
flung  away  in  smart  but  party  criticism.  Now,  no  man  can 
take  more  general  and  liberal  views  of  literature  than  J.  G-.  L. 
But  he  lets  himself  too  easily  into  that  advocatism  of  style, 
which  is  that  of  a  pleader,  not  a  judge  or  a  critic,  and  is 
particularly  unsatisfactory  to  the  reader.  Lieut.-Col.  Ferguson 
dined  here. 

April  10. — Sent  off  proofs  and  copy  galore  before  break- 
fast, and  might  be  able  to  give  idleness  a  day  if  I  liked. 
But  it  is  as  well  reading  for  Boney  as  for  anything  else,  and 
I  have  a  humour  to  make  my  amusement  useful.  Then  the 
day  is  changeable,  with  gusts  of  wind,  and  I  believe  a  start 
to  the  garden  will  be  my  best  out-of-doors  exercise.  No 
thorough  hill-expedition  in  this  gusty  weather. 

April  11. — Wrought  out  my  task,  although  I  have  been 
much  affected  this  morning  by  the  Morbus,  as  I  call  it. 
Aching  pain  in  the  back,  rendering  one  posture  intolerable, 
fluttering  of  the  heart,  idle  fears,  gloomy  thoughts  and 
anxieties,  which  if  not  unfounded  are  at  least  bootless.  I 

1  Quarterly  Rerit.ic,  No.  66  :  Lockhart's  review  of  Sheridan's  Life. 


174  JOUENAL.  [APRIL 

have  been  out  once  or  twice,  but  am  driven  in  by  the  rain. 
Mercy  on  us,  what  poor  devils  we  are  !  I  shook  this  affection 
off,  however.  Mr.  Scrope  and  Col.  Ferguson  came  to  dinner, 
and  we  twaddled  away  the  evening  well  enough. 

April  12. — I  have  finished  my  task  this  morning  at 
half -past  eleven — easily  and  early — and,  I  think,  not  amiss. 
I  hope  J.  B.  will  make  some  great  points  of  admiration ! ! ! — 
otherwise  I  will  be  disappointed.  If  this  work  answers — if 
it  but  answers,  it  must  set  us  on  our  legs ;  I  am  sure  worse 
trumpery  of  mine  has  had  a  great  run.  Well,  I  will  console 
myself  and  do  my  best !  But  fashion  changes,  and  I  am 
getting  old,  and  may  become  unpopular,  but  it  is  time  to  cry 
out  when  I  am  hurt.  I  remember  with  what  great  difficulty 
I  was  brought  to  think  myself  something  better  than 
common,1 — and  now  I  will  not  in  mere  faintness  of  heart 
give  up  good  hopes.  So  Fortune  protect  the  bold.  I  have 
finished  the  whole  introductory  sketch  of  the  Eevolution — 

1  It  is  interesting  to  read  what  of  the  disappointment  thus  pre- 
James  Ballantyne  has  recorded  on  pared  for  us.  When  I  ventured, 
this  subject. — "Sir  Walter  at  all  as  I  sometimes  did,  to  press 
times  laboured  under  the  strangest  him  on  the  score  of  the  reputa- 
delusion  as  to  the  merits  of  his  own  tion  he  had  gained,  he  merely 
works.  On  this  score  he  was  not  asked,  as  if  he  determined  to  be 
only  inaccessible  to  compliments,  done  with  the  discussion,  '  Why, 
but  even  insensible  to  the  truth  ;  in  what  is  the  value  of  a  reputation 
fact,  at  all  times,  he  hated  to  talk  which  probably  will  not  last  above 
of  any  of  his  productions  ;  as,  for  one  or  two  generations  ?  '  One 
instance,  he  greatly  preferred  Mrs.  morning,  I  recollect,  I  went  into 
Shelley's  Frankenstein  to  any  of  his  his  library,  shortly  after  the  publica- 
own  romances.  I  remember  one  tion  of  the  Lady  of  the  Lake, 
day,  when  Mr.  Erskine  and  I  were  and  finding  Miss  Scott  there,  who 
dining  with  him,  either  immediately  was  then  a  very  young  girl,  I  asked 
before  or  immediately  after  the  her,  'Well,  Miss  Sophia,  how  do 
publication  of  one  of  the  best  of  the  you  like  the  Lady  of  the  Lake,  with 
latter,  and  were  giving  it  the  high  which  everybody  is  so  much  en- 
praise  we  thought  it  deserved,  he  chanted  ?  '  Her  answer  was,  with 
asked  us  abruptly  whether  we  had  affecting  simplicity,  '  Oh,  I  have 
read  Frankenstein.  We  answered  not  read  it.  Papa  says  there 's  no- 
that  we  had  not.  'Ah,'  he  said,  thing  so  bad  for  young  girls  as  read- 
'  have  patience,  read  Frankenstein,  ing  bad  poetry. '  Yet  he  could  not 
and  you  will  be  better  able  to  judge  be  said  to  be  hostile  to  compliments 
of .'  You  will  easily  judge  in  the  abstract — nothing  was  so  easy 


1826.] 


JOURNAL. 


175 


too  long  for  an  introduction.     But  I  think  I  may  now  go  to 
my  solitary  walk. 

April  13. — On  my  return  from  my  walk  yesterday  I 
learnt  with  great  concern  the  death  of  my  old  friend,  Sir 
Alexander  Don.  He  cannot  have  been  above  six-  or  seven- 
and-forty.  Without  being  much  together,  we  had,  consider- 
ing our  different  habits,  lived  in  much  friendship,  and  I 
sincerely  regret  his  death.  His  habits  were  those  of  a  gay 
man,  much  connected  with  the  turf ;  but  he  possessed  strong 
natural  parts,  and  in  particular  few  men  could  speak  better 
in  public  when  he  chose.  He  had  tact,  wit,  power  of  sarcasm, 
and  that  indescribable  something  which  marks  the  gentleman. 
His  manners  in  society  were  extremely  pleasing,  and  as  he 
had  a  taste  for  literature  and  the  fine  arts,  there  were  few 
more  pleasant  companions,  besides  being  a  highly-spirited, 
steady,  and  honourable  man.  His  indolence  prevented  his 
turning  these  good  parts  towards  acquiring  the  distinction 


as  to  flatter  him  about  a  farm  or  a 
field,  and  his  manner  on  such  an 
occasion  plainly  showed  that  he  was 
really  open  to  such  a  compliment, 
and  liked  it.  In  fact,  I  can  recall 
only  one  instance  in  which  he  was 
fairly  cheated  into  pleasure  by  a  tri- 
bute paid  to  his  literary  merit,  and 
it  was  a  striking  one.  Somewhere 
betwixt  two  and  three  years  ago  I 
was  dining  at  the  Rev.  Dr.  Brunton's, 
with  a  large  and  accomplished  party, 
of  whom  Dr.  Chalmers  was  one. 
The  conversation  turned  upon  Sir 
Walter  Scott's  romances  generally, 
and  the  course  of  it  led  me  very 
shortly  afterwards  to  call  on  Sir 
Walter,  and  address  him  as  follows 
—I  knew  the  task  was  a  bold  one, 
but  I  thought  I  saw  that  I  should 
get  well  through  it—'  Well,  Sir 
Walter,'  I  said,  '  I  was  dining 
yesterday,  where  your  works  became 
the  subject  of  very  copious  conver- 
sation.' His  countenance  imme- 


diately became  overcast — and  his 
answer  was,  '  Well,  I  think,  I 
must  say  your  party  might  have 
been  better  employed. '  '  I  knew  it 
would  be  your  answer, ' — the  conver- 
sation continued, — '  nor  would  I 
have  mentioned  it,  but  that  Dr. 
Chalmers  was  present,  and  was  by 
far  the  most  decided  in  his  ex- 
pressions of  pleasure  and  admiration 
of  any  of  the  party. '  This  instantly 
roused  him  to  the  most  vivid  ani- 
mation. '  Dr.  Chalmers  ?  '  he 
repeated  ;  '  that  throws  new  light 
on  the  subject — to  have  produced 
any  effect  upon  the  mind  of  such  a 
man  as  Dr.  Chalmers  is  indeed 
something  to  be  proud  of.  Dr. 
Chalmers  is  a  man  of  the  truest 
genius.  I  will  thank  you  to  repeat 
all  you  can  recollect  that  he  said 
on  the  subject.'  I  did  so  accord- 
ingly, and  I  can  recall  no  other 
similar  instance.  "—James  Ballan- 
tyne's  MS. 


176  JOURNAL.  [APRIL 

he  might  have  attained.  He  was  among  the  dttenus  whom 
Bonaparte's  iniquitous  commands  confined  so  long  in  France  ;l 
and  coming  there  into  possession  of  a  large  estate  in  right  of 
his  mother,  the  heiress  of  the  G-lencairn  family,  he  had  the 
means  of  being  very  expensive,  and  probably  then  acquired 
those  gay  habits  which  rendered  him  averse  to  serious 
business.  Being  our  member  for  Roxburghshire,  his  death 
will  make  a  stir  amongst  us.  I  prophesy  Harden 2  will  be 
here  to  talk  about  starting  his  son  Henry. 

Accordingly  the  Laird  and  Lady  called.  I  exhorted  him 
to  write  to  Lord  Montagu  3  instantly.  I  do  not  see  what  they 
can  do  better,  and  unless  some  pickthank  intervene  to  in- 
sinuate certain  irritating  suspicions,  I  suppose  Lord  M.  will 
make  no  objection.  There  can  be  no  objection  to  Henry 
Scott  for  birth,  fortune,  or  political  principle ;  and  I  do  not 
see  where  we  could  get  a  better  representative. 

April  14. — Wrote  to  Lord  M.  last  night.  1  hope  they 
will  keep  the  peace  in  the  county.  I  am  sure  it  would  be 
to  me  a  most  distressing  thing  if  Buccleuch  and  Harden 
were  to  pull  different  ways,  being  so  intimate  with  both 
families. 

I  did  not  write  much  yesterday,  not  above  two  pages  and 
a  half.  I  have  begun  Boney,  though,  and  c'est  toujours  qud- 
que  chose.  This  morning  I  sent  off  proofs  and  manuscript. 
Had  a  letter  from  the  famous  Denis  Davidoff,  the  Black 
Captain,  whose  abilities  as  a  partisan  were  so  much  distin- 
guished during  the  retreat  from  Moscow.  If  I  can  but 
wheedle  him  out  of  a  few  anecdotes,  it  would  be  a  great  haul. 

1  For  the  life  led  by  many  of  the     succeeded    by    his   son    Henry,  in 
detenus  in  France  before  1814,  and      1841. 

for  anecdotes  regarding  Sir  Alex-  3  Henry  Jas.  Scott,  who  succeeded 

auder  Don,  see  Sir  James   Camp-  to  the  Barony  of  Montagu  on  the 

bell  of  Ardkinglas*  Memoirs,  2  vols.  demise  of  his  grandfather,  the  Duke 

8vo,  London  1832,  vol.  ii.  chaps.  7  of  Montagu,  was  the  son  of  Henry, 

and  8.  3d  Duke  of  Buccleuch.      At  Lord 

2  Hugh   Scott  of  Harden,  after-  M. 's  death  in  1845  the  Barony  of 
wards  (in   1835)   Lord  Polwarth—  Montagu  expired. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  177 

A  kind  letter  from  Colin  Mackenzie];  he  thinks  the 
Ministry  will  not  push  the  measure  against  Scotland.  I  fear 
they  will ;  there  is  usually  an  obstinacy  in  weakness.  But  I 
will  think  no  more  about  it.  Time  draws  on.  I  have  been  here 
a  month.  Another  month  carries  me  to  be  a  hermit  in  the  city 
instead  of  the  country.  I  could  scarce  think  I  had  been  here 
a  week.  I  wish  I  was  able,  even  at  great  loss,  to  retire  from 
Edinburgh  entirely.  Here  is  no  bile,  no  visits,  no  routine, 
ftnd  yet  on  the  whole,  things  are  as  well  perhaps  as  they  are. 

April  15. — Eeceived  last  night  letters  from  Sir  John 
Scott  Douglas,  and  from  that  daintiest  of  Dandies,  Sir 
William  Elliot  of  Stobs,  canvassing  for  the  county.  Young 
Harry 's x  the  lad  for  me.  But  will  he  be  the  lad  for  Lord 
Montagu  ? — there  is  the  point.  I  should  have  given  him  a 
hint  to  attend  to  Edgerston.  Perhaps  being  at  Minto,  and  not 
there,  may  give  offence,  and  a  bad  report  from  that  quarter 
would  play  the  devil.  It  is  rather  too  late  to  go  down  and 
tell  them  this,  and,  to  say  truth,  I  don't  like  the  air  of 
making  myself  busy  in  the  matter. 

Poor  Sir  Alexander  Don  died  of  a  disease  in  the  heart ; 
the  body  was  opened,  which  was  very  right.  Odd  enough, 
too,  to  have  a  man,  probably  a  friend  two  days  before,  slash- 
ing at  one's  heart  as  it  were  a  bullock's.  I  had  a  letter  yester- 
day from  John  Gibson.  The  House  of  Longman  and  Co. 
guarantee  the  sale  [of  Woodstock]  to  Hurst,  and  take  the  work, 
if  Hurst  and  Robinson  (as  is  to  be  feared)  can  make  no  play. 

Also  I  made  up  what  was  due  of  my  task  both  for  13th 
and  14th.  So  hey  for  a  Swiftianism — 

"  I  loll  in  my  chair, 
And  around  me  I  stare 
With  a  critical  air, 
Like  a  calf  at  a  fair  ; 
And,  say  I,  Mrs.  Duty, 
Good-morrow  to  your  beauty, 
I  kiss  your  sweet  shoe-tie, 
And  hope  I  can  suit  ye." 

1  Henry  Scott,  afterwards  Lord  Polwarth. 
M 


178  JOURNAL.  [APKIL 

Fair  words  butter  no  parsnips,  says  Duty ;  don't  keep 
talking  then,  but  get  to  your  work  again.  Here  is  a  day's 
task  before  you — the  siege  of  Toulon.  Call  you  that  a  task  ? 
d —  me,  I  '11  write  it  as  fast  as  Boney  carried  it  on. 

April  16. — I  am  now  far  ahead  with  Nap.  I  wrote  a 
little  this  morning,  but  this  forenoon  I  must  write  letters, 
a  task  in  which  I  am  far  behind. 

"  Heaven  sure  sent  letters  for  some  wretch's  plague." 1 

Lady  Scott  seems  to  make  no  way,  yet  can  scarce  be  said 
to  lose  any.  She  suffers  much  occasionally,  especially 
during  the  night.  Sleeps  a  great  deal  when  at  ease;  all 
symptoms  announce  water  upon  the  chest.  A  sad  prospect. 

In  the  evening  a  despatch  from  Lord  Melville,  written 
with  all  the  familiarity  of  former  times,  desiring  me  to  ride 
down  and  press  Mr.  Scott  of  Harden  to  let  Henry  stand, 
and  this  in  Lord  Montagu's  name  as  well  as  his  own,  so  that 
the  two  propositions  cross  each  other  on  the  road,  and 
Henry  is  as  much  desired  by  the  Buccleuch  interest  as  he 
desires  their  support. 

Jedburgh,  April  1 7. — Came  over  to  Jedburgh  this  morning, 
to  breakfast  with  my  good  old  friend  Mr.  Shortreed,  and  had 
my  usual  warm  reception.  Lord  Gillies  held  the  Circuit 
Court,  and  there  was  no  criminal  trial  for  any  offence  what- 
soever. I  have  attended  these  circuits  with  tolerable  re- 
gularity since  1792,  and  though  there  is  seldom  much  of 
importance  to  be  done,  yet  I  never  remember  before  the 
Porteous  roll 2  being  quite  blank.  The  judge  was  presented 

1  Slightly    altered    from    Pope's  gateway  as  they  entered  the  various 
Eloisa  to  Abelard.  towns   on   their     circuit    ay  res. — 

2  The    Catalogue    of    Criminals  Chambers's   Book    of  Scotland,  p. 
brought  before  the  Circuit  Courts  310. 

at  one  time  was  termed  in  Scot-  Jamieson  suggests  that  the  word 

land  the  Portuous  Roll.     The  name  may  have  come  from  "  Porteous  "as 

appears  to  have  been  derived  from  originally  applied  to  a  Breviary,  or 

the  practice  in  early  times  of  de-  portable   book    of   prayers,   which 

livering  to  the  judges  lists  of  Crimi-  might   easily  be   transferred  to  a 

nals  for  Trials  in  Portu,  or  in  the  portable  roll  of  indictments. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  179 

with  a  pair  of  white  gloves,  in  consideration  of  its  being  a 
maiden  circuit.  Harden  came  over  and  talked  about  his 
son's  preferment,  naturally  much  pleased. 

Received  £100  from  John  Lockhart,  for  review  of  Pepys;1 
but  this  is  by  far  too  much ;  £50  is  plenty.  Still  I  must 
impeticos  the  gratility  for  the  present,2 — for  Whitsunday 
will  find  me  only  with  £300  in  hand,  unless  Blackwood 
settles  a  few  scores  of  pounds  for  Malacki. 

"Wrote  a  great  many  letters.  Dined  with  the  Judge, 
where  I  met  the  disappointed  candidate,  Sir  John  Scott 
Douglas,  who  took  my  excuse  like  a  gentleman.  Sir  William 
Elliot,  on  the  other  hand,  was,  being  a  fine  man,  very  much 
out  of  sorts,  that  having  got  his  own  consent,  he  could  not 
get  that  of  the  county.  He  showed  none  of  this,  however, 
to  me. 

April  18. — This  morning  I  go  down  to  Kelso  from  Jed- 
burgh  to  poor  Don's  funeral.  It  is,  I  suppose,  forty  years 
since  I  saw  him  first.  I  was  staying  at  Sydenham,  a  lad  of 
fourteen,  or  by  'r  Lady  some  sixteen ;  and  he,  a  boy  of  six  or 
seven,  was  brought  to  visit  me  on  a  pony,  a  groom  holding 
the  leading  rein — and  now,  I,  an  old  grey  man,  am  going  to 
lay  him  in  his  grave.  Sad  work.  I  detest  funerals ;  there  is 
always  a  want  of  consistency ;  it  is  a  tragedy  played  by  stroll- 
ing performers,  who  are  more  likely  to  make  you  laugh  than 
cry.  No  chance  of  my  being  made  to  laugh  to-day.  The 
very  road  I  go  is  a  road  of  grave  recollections.  Must  write 
to  Charles  seriously  on  the  choice  of  his  profession,  and  I 
will  do  it  now. 

[Abbotsford,]  April  19. — Returned  last  night  from  the 
house  of  death  and  mourning  to  my  own,  now  the  habitation 
of  sickness  and  anxious  apprehension.  Found  Lady  S.  had 
tried  the  foxglove  in  quantity,  till  it  made  her  so  sick  she 
was  forced  to  desist.  The  result  cannot  yet  be  judged. 

1  Quarterly  Review,  No.  66,  Pepys'  Diary. 
~  Twelfth  Night,  Act  n.  Sc.  3. 


180  JOUKNAL.  [APRIL 

Wrote  to  Mrs.  Thomas  Scott  to  beg  her  to  let  her  daughter 
Anne,  an  uncommonly,  sensible,  steady,  and  sweet-tempered 
girl,  come  and  stay  with  us  a  season  in  our  distress,  who 
I  trust  will  come  forthwith. 

Two  melancholy  things.  Last  night  I  left  my  pallet  in 
our  family  apartment,  to  make  way  for  a  female  attendant, 
and  removed  to  a  dressing-room  adjoining,  when  to  return, 
or  whether  ever,  God  only  can  tell.  Also  my  servant  cut 
my  hair,  which  used  to  be  poor  Charlotte's  personal  task.  I 
hope  she  will  not  observe  it. 

The  funeral  yesterday  was  very  mournful ;  about  fifty 
persons  present,  and  all  seemed  affected.  The  domestics  in 
particular  were  very  much  so  Sir  Alexander  was  a  kind, 
though  an  exact  master.  It  was  melancholy  to  see  those 
apartments,  where  I  have  so  often  seen  him  play  the  grace- 
ful and  kind  landlord  filled  with  those  who  were  to  carry 
him  to  his  long  home. 

There  was  very  little  talk  of  the  election,  at  least  till  the 
funeral  was  over. 

April  20. — Lady  Scott's  health  in  the  same  harassing 
state  of  uncertainty,  yet  on  my  side  with  more  of  hope  than 
I  had  two  days  since. 

Another  death ;  Thomas  Eiddell,  younger  of  Cainiston, 
Sergeant-Major  of  the  Edinburgh  Troop  in  the  sunny  days 
of  our  yeomanry,  and  a  very  good  fellow. 

The  day  was  so  tempting  that  I  went  out  with  Tom 
Purdie  to  cut  some  trees,  the  rather  that  my  task  was  very 
well  advanced.  He  led  me  into  the  wood,  as  the  blind 
King  of  Bohemia  was  led  by  his  four  knights  into  the 
thick  of  the  battle  at  Agincourt  or  Crecy,1  and  then,  like 
the  old  King,  "  I  struck  good  strokes  more  than  one,"  which 
is  manly  exercise. 

April  21. — This  day  I  entertained  more  flattering  hopes 
of  Lady  Scott's  health  than  late  events  permitted.  I  went 

1  See  Froissart'a  account  of  the  Battle  of  Crecy,  Bk.  i.  cap.  129. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  181 

down  to  Mertoun  with  Colonel  Ferguson,  who  returned  to 
dine  here,  which  consumed  time  so  much  that  I  made  a 
short  day's  work. 

Had  the  grief  to  find  Lady  Scott  had  insisted  on  coming 
downstairs  and  was  the  worse  of  it.  Also  a  letter  from 
Lockhart,  giving  a  poor  account  of  the  infant.  God  help 
us !  earth  cannot. 

April  22. — Lady  Scott  continues  very  poorly.  Better 
news  of  the  child. 

Wrought  a  good  deal  to-day,  rather  correcting  sheets 
and  acquiring  information  than  actually  composing,  which 
is  the  least  toilsome  of  the  three. 

J.  G.  L.  kindly  points  out  some  solecisms  in  my  style, 
as  "  amid  "  for  "  amidst,"  "  scarce  "  for  "  scarcely."  "Whose," 
he  says,  is  the  proper  genitive  of  "  which  "  only  at  such  times 
as  "  which  "  retains  its  quality  of  impersonification.  Well ! 
I  will  try  to  remember  all  this,  but  after  all  I  write  grammar 
as  I  speak,  to  make  my  meaning  known,  and  a  solecism  in 
point  of  composition,  like  a  Scotch  word  in  speaking,  is 
indifferent  to  me.  I  never  learned  grammar ;  and  not  only 
Sir  Hugh  Evans  but  even  Mrs.  Quickly  might  puzzle  me 
about  Giney's  case  and  horum  harum  horum.1  I  believe 
the  Bailiff  in  The  Good-natured  Man  is  not  far  wrong  when 
he  says,  "  One  man  has  one  way  of  expressing  himself,  and 
another  another,  and  that  is  all  the  difference  between 
them." 2  Went  to  Huntly  Burn  to-day  and  looked  at  the 
Colonel's  projected  approach.  I  am  sure  if  the  kind  heart 
can  please  himself  he  will  please  me. 

April  23. — A  glorious  day,  bright  and  brilliant,  and,  I 
fancy,  mild.  Lady  Scott  is  certainly  better,  and  has 
promised  not  to  attempt  quitting  her  room. 

Henry  Scott  has  been  here,  and  his  canvass  comes  on 
like  a  moor  burning. 

1  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  Act  IV.  Sc.  1. 
-  See  Goldsmith's  Comedy,  Act  in. 


182  JOUENAL  [APKIL 

April  24. — Good  news  from  Brighton.  Sophia  is  con- 
fined ;  both  she  and  her  baby  are  doing  well,  and  the  child's 
name  is  announced  to  be  Walter — a  favourite  name  in  our 
family,  and  I  trust  of  no  bad  omen.  Yet  it  is  no  charm 
for  life.  Of  my  father's  family  I  was  the  second  Walter, 
if  not  the  third.  I  am  glad  the  name  came  my  way,  for  it 
was  borne  by  my  father,  great-grandfather,  and  great-great- 
grandfather; also  by  the  grandsire  of  that  last-named 
venerable  person  who  was  the  first  laird  of  Eaeburn. 

Hurst  and  Eobinson,  the  Yorkshire  tykes,  have  failed 
after  all  their  swaggering,  and  Longman  and  Co.  take 
Woodstock.  But  if  Woodstock  and  Napoleon  take  with  the 
public  I  shall  care  little  about  their  insolvency,  and  if  they 
do  not,  I  don't  think  their  solvency  would  have  lasted  long. 
Constable  is  sorely  broken  down. 

"  Poor  fool  and  knave,  I  have  one  part  in  my  heart 
That  Js  sorry  yet  for  thee."  * 

His  conduct  has  not  been  what  I  deserved  at  his  hand,  but, 
I  believe  that,  walking  blindfold  himself,  he  misled  me 
without  malice  prepense.  It  is  best  to  think  so  at  least, 
unless  the  contrary  be  demonstrated.  To  nourish  angry 
passions  against  a  man  whom  I  really  liked  would  be  to 
lay  a  blister  on  my  own  heart. 

April  25. — Having  fallen  behind  on  the  23d,  I  wrought 
pretty  hard  yesterday ;  but  I  had  so  much  reading,  and  so 
many  proofs  to  correct,  that  I  did  not  get  over  the  daily 
task,  so  am  still  a  little  behind,  which  I  shall  soon  make 
up.  I  have  got  Nap.,  d — n  him,  into  Italy,  where  with  bad 
eyes  and  obscure  maps,  I  have  a  little  difficulty  in  tracing 
out  his  victorious  chess-play. 

Lady  Scott  was  better  yesterday,  certainly  better,  and  was 

sound  asleep  when  I  looked  in  this  morning.     Walked  in  the 

afternoon.     I  looked  at  a  hooded  crow  building  in  the  thicket 

with  great  pleasure.     It  is  a  shorter  date  than  my  neighbour 

1  King  Lear,  Act  in.  Sc.  2. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  183 

Torwoodlee1  thought  of,  when  he  told  me,  as  I  was  bragging 
a  little  of  my  plantations,  that  it  would  be  long  ere  crows 
built  in  them. 

April  26. — Letters  from  Walter  and  Lockharts;  all  well 
and  doing  well.  Lady  S.  continues  better,  so  the  clouds  are 
breaking  up.  I  made  a  good  day's  work  yesterday,  and  sent 
off  proofs,  letters,  and  copy  this  morning ;  so,  if  this  fine  day 
holds  good,  I  will  take  a  drive  at  one. 

There  is  an  operation  called  putting  to  rights — Scottice, 
redding  up — which  puts  me  into  a  fever.  I  always  leave 
any  attempt  at  it  half  executed,  and  so  am  worse  off  than 
before,  and  have  only  embroiled  the  fray.  Then  my  long 
back  aches  with  stooping  into  the  low  drawers  of  old  cabinets, 
and  my  neck  is  strained  with  staring  up  to  their  attics. 
Then  you  are  sure  never  to  get  the  thing  you  want.  I  am 
certain  they  creep  about  and  hide  themselves.  Tom  Moore2 
gave  us  the  insurrection  of  the  papers.  That  was  open  war, 
but  this  is  a  system  of  privy  plot  and  conspiracy,  by  which 
those  you  seek  creep  out  of  the  way,  and  those  you  are  not 
wanting  perk  themselves  in  your  face  again  and  again,  until 
at  last  you  throw  them  into  some  corner  in  a  passion,  and 
then  they  are  the  objects  of  research  in  their  turn.  I  have 
read  in  a  French  Eastern  tale  of  an  enchanted  person  called 
L'komme  qui  cherche,  a  sort  of  "  Sir  Guy  the  Seeker,"  always 
employed  in  collecting  the  beads  of  a  chaplet,  which,  by  dint 
of  gramarye,  always  dispersed  themselves  when  he  was  about 
to  fix  the  last  upon  the  string.  It  was  an  awful  doom  ;  trans- 
mogrification into  the  Laidleyworm  of  Spindlestaneheugh 3 

1  James     Pringle,    Convener    of  3  The  well-known  ballads  on  these 

Selkirkshire  for  more  than  half  a  two    North-country    legends   were 

century.     For  an  account   of   the  published  by  M.  G.  Lewis  and  Mr. 

Pringles  of    Torwoodlee,   see   Mr.  Lambe,  of  Norham.     "Sir  Guy, "in 

Craig  Brown's  History  of  Selkirk-  the   Tales  of  Wonder,  and   ' '  The 

shire,  vol.  i.  pp.  459-470.  Worm,"  in  Ritson's Northumberland 

2  "2'he  Insurrection  of  the  Papers  Garland. — See  Child's  English  and 

— a  Dream."     The  Twopenny  Post-  Scottish    Ballads,    8    vols.     12mo, 

Bag,  12mo,  London,  1812.  Boston,  1857,  vol.  i.  p.  386. 


184  JOURNAL.  [APRIL 

would  have  been  a  blessing  in  comparison.  Now,  the 
explanation  of  all  this  is,  that  I  have  been  all  this  morning 
seeking  a  parcel  of  sticks  of  sealing  wax  which  I  brought 
from  Edinburgh,  and  the  "  Wed  Brandt  and  Vast  houd >n  has 
either  melted  without  the  agency  of  fire  or  barricaded  itself 
within  the  drawers  of  some  cabinet,  which  has  declared  itself 
in  a  state  of  insurrection.  A  choice  subject  for  a  journal, 
but  what  better  have  I  ? 

I  did  not  quite  finish  my  task  to-day,  nay,  I  only  did  one 
third  of  it.  It  is  so  difficult  to  consult  the  maps  after 
candles  are  lighted,  or  to  read  the  Moniteur,  that  I  was 
obliged  to  adjourn.  The  task  is  three  pages  or  leaves  of 
my  close  writing  per  diem,  which  corresponds  to  about  a 
sheet  (16  pages)  of  Woodstock,  and  about  12  of  Bonaparte, 
which  is  a  more  comprehensive  page.  But  I  was  not  idle 
neither,  and  wrote  some  Balaam*  for  Lockhart's  Review. 
Then  I  was  in  hand  a  leaf  above  the  tale,  so  I  am  now 
only  a  leaf  behind  it. 

April  27. — This  is  one  of  those  abominable  April  morn- 
ings which  deserve  the  name  of  Sans  Cullotides,  as  being  cold, 
beggarly,  coarse,  savage,  and  intrusive.  The  earth  lies  an 
inch  deep  with  snow,  to  the  confusion  of  the  worshippers  of 
Flora.  By  the  way,  Bogie  attended  his  professional  dinner 
and  show  of  flowers  at  Jedburgh  yesterday.  Here  is  a 
beautiful  sequence  to  their  floralia.  It  is  this  uncertainty 
in  April,  and  the  descent  of  snow  and  frost  when  one  thinks 
themselves  clear  of  them,  and  that  after  fine  encouraging 
weather,  that  destroys  our  Scottish  fruits  and  flowers.  It  is 
as  imprudent  to  attach  yourself  to  flowers  in  Scotland  as  to 
a  caged  bird;  the  cat,  sooner  or  later,  snaps  up  one,  and  these 

1  Fyn  Segdlak  wel  brand  en  vast  graphs,  about  monstrous  produc- 
houd:  old  brand  used  by  sealing-  tions  of  Nature  and  the  like,  kept 
wax  makers.  standing  in  type  to  be  used  when- 

ever the  real  news  of  the  day  leaves 

8  Balaam  is  the  cant  name  in  a  an  awkward  space  that  must  be 
Newspaper  Office  for  asinine  para-  filled  up  somehow. — J.G.I.. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  185 

— Sans  Cullotides — annihilate  the  other.  It  was  but  yester- 
day I  was  admiring  the  glorious  flourish  of  the  pears  and 
apricots,  and  now  hath  come  the  killing  frost.1 

But  let  it  freeze  without,  we  are  comfortable  within. 
Lady  Scott  continues  better,  and,  we  may  hope,  has  got  the 
turn  of  her  disease. 

April  28. — Beautiful  morning,  but  ice  as  thick  as  paste- 
board, too  surely  showing  that  the  night  has  made  good 
yesterday's  threat.  Dalgleish,  with  his  most  melancholy 
face,  conveys  the  most  doleful  tidings  from  Bogie.  But 
servants  are  fond  of  the  woful,  it  gives  such  consequence  to 
the  person  who  communicates  bad  news. 

Wrote  two  leaves,  and  read  till  twelve,  and  then  for  a 
stout  walk  among  the  plantations  till  four.  Found  Lady 
Scott  obviously  better,  I  think,  than  I  had  left  her  in  the 
morning.  In  walking  I  am  like  a  spavined  horse,  and  heat 
as  I  get  on.  The  flourishing  plantations  around  me  are  a 
great  argument  for  me  to  labour  hard.  "Barbaras  has 
segetes  ?  "  I  will  write  my  finger-ends  off  first. 

April  29. — I  was  always  afraid,  privately,  that  Woodstock 
would  not  stand  the  test.  In  that  case  my  fate  would  have 
been  that  of  the  unfortunate  minstrel  trumpeter  Maclean 
at  the  battle  of  Sheriffmuir — 

"  By  misfortune  he  happened  to  fa',  man  ; 
By  saving  his  neck 
His  trumpet  did  break, 
And  came  off  without  music  at  a',  man."  2 

J.  B.  corroborated  my  doubts  by  his  raven-like  croaking 
and  criticising  ;  but  the  good  fellow  writes  me  this  morning 
that  he  is  written  down  an  ass,  and  that  the  approbation  is 
unanimous.  It  is  but  Edinburgh,  to  be  sure ;  but  Edinburgh 
has  always  been  a  harder  critic  than  London.  It  is  a  great 
mercy,  and  gives  encouragement  for  future  exertion.  Having 
written  two  leaves  this  morning,  I  think  I  will  turn  out  to 
1  Henry  VIII.  Act  in.  Sc.  2.  2  Ritson,  Scottish  Songs,  XVL 


186  JOURNAL.  [APRIL  1826. 

my  walk,  though  two  hours  earlier  than  usual.  Egad,  I 
could  not  persuade  myself  that  it  was  such  bad  Balaam 
after  all 

April  30. — I  corrected  this  morning  a  quantity  of  proofs 
and  copy,  and  dawdled  about  a  little,  the  weather  of  late  be- 
coming rather  milder,  though  not  much  of  that.  Methinks 
Duty  looks  as  if  she  were  but  half-pleased  with  me  ;  but 
would  the  Pagan  bitch  have  me  work  on  the  Sunday 


MAY. 

May  1. — I  walked  to-day  to  the  western  corner  of  the 
Chiefswood  plantation,  and  marked  out  a  large  additional 
plantation  to  be  drawn  along  the  face  of  the  hill.  It  cost 
me  some  trouble  to  carry  the  boundaries  out  of  the  eye,  for 
nothing  is  so  paltry  as  a  plantation  of  almost  any  extent  if 
its  whole  extent  lies  defined  to  the  eye.  By  availing  myself 
of  the  undulations  of  the  ground  I  think  I  have  avoided 
this  for  the  present ;  only  when  seen  from  the  Eildon  Hills 
the  cranks  and  turns  of  the  enclosure  will  seem  fantastic, 
at  least  until  the  trees  get  high. 

This  cost  Tom  and  me  three  or  four  hours.  Lieut.  - 
Colonel  Ferguson  joined  us  as  we  went  home,  and  dined  at 
Abbotsford. 

My  cousin,  Barbara  Scott  of  Eaeburn,  came  here  to  see 
Lady  S.  I  think  she  was  shocked  with  the  melancholy 
change.  She  insisted  upon  walking  back  to  Lessudden 
House,  making  her  walk  16  or  18  miles,  and  though  the 
carriage  was  ordered  she  would  not  enter  it. 

May  2. — Yesterday  was  a  splendid  May  day — to-day 
seems  inclined  to  be  soft,  as  we  call  it;  but  tant  mieux. 
Yesterday  had  a  twang  of  frost  in  it.  I  must  get  to  work 
and  finish  Boaden's  Life  of  Kemlle,  and  Kelly's  Reminis- 
cences* for  the  Quarterly. 

I  wrote  and  read  for  three  hours,  and  then  walked,  the 
day  being  soft  and  delightful ;  but  alas !  all  my  walks  are 
lonely  from  the  absence  of  my  poor  companion.  She  does 
not  suffer,  thank  God,  but  strength  must  fail  at  last.  Since 

1  See  Miscellaneous  Prose  Works,  vol.   xx.   pp.  152-244,  or  Quarterly 
Review  No.  67,  Kelly's  Reminiscences!. 

187 


188  JOURNAL.  [MAY 

Sunday  there  has  been  a  gradual  change — very  gradual — 
but,  alas !  to  the  worse.  My  hopes  are  almost  gone.  But  I 
am  determined  to  stand  this  grief  as  I  have  done  others. 

May  3. — Another  fine  morning.  I  answered  a  letter 
from  Mr.  Handley,  who  has  taken  the  pains  to  rummage  the 
Chancery  Records  until  he  has  actually  discovered  the  fund 
due  to  Lady  Scott's  mother,  £1200  ;  it  seems  to  have  been 
invested  in  the  estates  of  a  Mr.  Owen,  as  it  appears  for 
Madame  Charpentier's  benefit,  but,  she  dying,  the  fund  was 
lost  sight  of  and  got  into  Chancery,  where  I  suppose  it  must 
have  accumulated,  but  I  cannot  say  I  understand  the 
matter ;  at  a  happier  moment  the  news  would  have  given 
poor  Charlotte  much  pleasure,  but  now — it  is  a  day  too  late. 

May  4. — On  visiting  ,  Lady  Scott's  sick-room  this 
morning  I  found  her  suffering,  and  I  doubt  if  she  knew  me. 
Yet,  after  breakfast,  she  seemed  serene  and  composed.  The 
worst  is,  she  will  not  speak  out  about  the  symptoms  under 
which  she  labours.  Sad,  sad  work ;  I  am  under  the  most 
melancholy  apprehension,  for  what  constitution  can  hold 
out  under  these  continued  and  wasting  attacks  ? 

My  niece,  Anne  Scott,  a  prudent,  sensible,  and  kind 
young  woman,  arrived  to-day,  having  come  down  to  assist 
us  in  our  distress  from  so  far  as  Cheltenham.  This  is  a 
great  consolation. 

May  5. — Haunted  by  gloomy  thoughts ;  but  I  corrected 
proofs  from  seven  to  ten,  and  wrote  from  half-past  ten  to 
one.  My  old  friend  Sir  Adam  called,  and  took  a  long  walk 
with  me,  which  was  charity.  His  gaiety  rubbed  me  up 
a  little.  I  had  also  a  visit  from  the  Laird  and  Lady  of 
Harden.  Henry  Scott  carries  the  county  without  opposition. 

May  6. — The  same  scene  of  hopeless  (almost)  and  un- 
availing anxiety.  Still  welcoming  me  with  a  smile,  and 
asserting  she  is  better.  I  fear  the  disease  is  too  deeply 
entwined  with  the  principles  of  life.  Yet  the  increase  of 
good  weather,  especially  if  it  would  turn  more  genial,  might, 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  189 

I  think,  aid  her  excellent  constitution.  Still  labouring  at 
this  Review,  without  heart  or  spirits  to  finish  it.  I  am  a 
tolerable  Stoic,  but  preach  to  myself  in  vain. 

"  Since  these  things  are  necessities, 
Then  let  us  meet  them  like  necessities." l 

And  so  we  will. 

May  1. — Hammered  on  at  the  Review  till  my  backbone 
ached.  But  I  believe  it  was  a  nervous  affection,  for  a  walk 
cured  it.  Sir  Adam  and  the  Colonel  dined  here.  So  I 
spent  the  evening  as  pleasantly  as  I  well  could,  considering 
I  am  so  soon  to  leave  my  own  house,  and  go  like  a  stranger 
to  the  town  of  which  I  have  been  so  long  a  citizen,  and 
leave  my  wife  lingering,  without  prospect  of  recovery,  under 
the  charge  of  two  poor  girls.  Talia  cogit  dura  neccssitas. 

May  8. — I  went  over  to  the  election  at  Jedburgh.  There 
was  a  numerous  meeting;  the  Whigs,  who  did  not  bring 
ten  men  to  the  meeting,  of  course  took  the  whole  matter 
under  their  patronage,  which  was  much  of  a  piece  with  the 
Blue  Bottle  drawing  the  carriage.  I  tried  to  pull  up  once 
or  twice,  but  quietly,  having  no  desire  to  disturb  the  quiet 
of  the  election.  To  see  the  difference  of  modern  times ! 
We  had  a  good  dinner,  and  excellent  wine;  and  I  had 
ordered  my  carriage  at  half-past  seven,  almost  ashamed  to 
start  so  soon.  Everybody  dispersed  at  so  early  an  hour, 
however,  that  when  Henry  had  left  the  chair,  there  was  no 
carriage  for  me,  and  Peter  proved  his  accuracy  by  showing 
me  it  was  but  a  quarter-past  seven.  In  the  days  I  re- 
member they  would  have  kept  it  up  till  day-light ;  nor  do  I 
think  poor  Don  would  have  left  the  chair  before  midnight. 
Well,  there  is  a  medium.  Without  being  a  veteran  Vice,  a 
grey  Iniquity,  like  Falstaff,  I  think  an  occasional  jolly  bout, 
if  not  carried  to  excess,  improved  society ;  men  were  put 
into  good  humour ;  when  the  good  wine  did  its  good  office, 
the  jest,  the  song,  the  speech,  had  double  effect ;  men  were 
1  2  Henry  IV.,  Act  in.  Sc.  1,  slightly  altered. 


190  JOURNAL.  [MAY 

happy  for  the  night,  and  better  friends  ever  after,  because 
they  had  been  so. 

May  9. — My  new  Liverpool  neighbour,  Mr.  Bainbridge, 
breakfasts  here  to-day  with  some  of  his  family.  They  wish 
to  try  the  fishing  in  Cauldshields  Loch,  and  [there  is] 
promise  of  a  fine  soft  morning.  But  the  season  is  too  early. 

They  have  had  no  sport  accordingly  after  trying  with 
Trimmers.  Mr.  Bainbridge  is  a  good  cut  of  John  Bull — 
plain,  sensible,  and  downright ;  the  maker  of  his  own  for- 
tune, and  son  of  his  own  works. 

May  10. — To-morrow  I  leave  my  home.  To  what  scene 
I  may  suddenly  be  recalled,  it  wrings  my  heart  to  think.  If 
she  would  but  be  guided  by  the  medical  people,  and  attend 
rigidly  to  their  orders,  something  might  be  hoped,  but  she  is 
impatient  with  the  protracted  suffering,  and  no  wonder. 
Anne  has  a  severe  task  to  perform,  but  the  assistance  of  her 
cousin  is  a  great  comfort.  Baron  Weber,  the  great  composer, 
wants  me  (through  Lockhart)  to  compose  something  to  be 
set  to  music  by  him,  and  sung  by  Miss  Stephens — as  if  I 
cared  who  set  or  who  sung  any  lines  of  mine.  I  have  recom- 
mended instead  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  unrivalled  song 
in  the  Nice  Valour : 

"  Hence,  all  ye  vain  delights,"  etc. 

[Edinburgh,1]  May  11. — 

"  Der  Abschiedstag  ist  da, 
Schwer  liegt  er  auf  den  Herzen — schwer." 2 

Charlotte  was  unable  to  take  leave  of  me,  being  in  a 
sound  sleep,  after  a  very  indifferent  night.  Perhaps  it  was 
as  well  Emotion  might  have  hurt  her;  and  nothing  I 
could  have  expressed  would  have  been  worth  the  risk.  I 
have  foreseen,  for  two  years  and  more,  that  this  menaced 
event  could  not  be  far  distant.  I  have  seen  plainly,  within 

1  [Mrs.  Brown's  Lodgings,  No.  6  in  Life,  vol.  ii.  p.  13.     The  literal 
North  St.  David  Street.]  translation  is  : — 

2  This  is  the  opening  couplet  of  a  < .  The  day  of  departure  is  come  ; 
German  trooper's  song,  alluded  to  Heavy  lies  it  on  the  hearts— heavy." 

— J.  G.  L. 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  191 

the  last  two  months,  that  recovery  was  hopeless.  And 
yet  to  part  with  the  companion  of  twenty-nine  years  when 
so  very  ill — that  I  did  not,  could  not  foresee.1  It  withers  my 
heart  to  think  of  it,  and  to  recollect  that  I  can  hardly  hope 
again  to  seek  confidence  and  counsel  from  that  ear  to  which 
all  might  be  safely  confided.  But  in  her  present  lethargic 
state,  what  would  my  attentions  have  availed  ?  and  Anne 
has  promised  close  and  constant  intelligence.  I  must  dine 
with  James  Ballantyne  to-day  enfamille.  I  cannot  help  it ; 
but  would  rather  be  at  home  and  alone.  However,  I  can  go 
out  too.  I  will  not  yield  to  the  barren  sense  of  hopelessness 
which  struggles  to  invade  me.  I  passed  a  pleasant  day  with 
honest  J.  B.,  which  was  a  great  relief  from  the  black  dog  which 
would  have  worried  me  at  home.  We  were  quite  alone. 

[Edinburgh,]  May  1 2. — Well,  here  I  am  in  Arden.  And 
I  may  say  with  Touchstone,  "  When  I  was  at  home  I  was  in 
a  better  place,"2  and  yet  this  is  not  by  any  means  to  be  com- 
plained of.  Good  apartments,  the  people  civil  and  apparently 
attentive.  No  appearance  of  smoke,  and  absolute  warrandice 
against  my  dreaded  enemies,  bugs.  I  must,  when  there  is 
occasion,  draw  to  my  own  Bailie  Nicol  Jarvie's  consolation, 
"  One  cannot  carry  the  comforts  of  the  Saut-Market  about 
with  one."  Were  I  at  ease  in  mind,  I  think  the  body  is 
very  well  cared  for.  I  have  two  steady  servants,  a  man  and 
woman,  and  they  seem  to  set  out  sensibly  enough.  Only 
one  lodger  in  the  house,  a  Mr.  Shandy,  a  clergyman ;  and 
despite  his  name,  said  to  be  a  quiet  one. 

May  13. — The  projected  measure  against  the  Scottish 
bank-notes  has  been  abandoned,  the  resistance  being  general. 

1  Scott  had  written: — "and  yet  fortunes,  "  just  six  "  MONTHS  before, 

to    part   with    the    companion    of  and    had    afterwards    thought    it 

twenty  years  just  six,  "and  had  then  better  to  refrain.     This  would  ac- 

deleted   the  three  words,   "  years  count  for  a    certain   obscurity  of 

just  six, "  and  written  ' '  nine  "  above  meaning, 
them.     It  looks  as  if  he  had  meant 

at  first  to  refer  to  the  change  in  his  2  As  You  Like  It,  Act  n.  Sc.  4. 


192  JOURNAL.  [MAY 

Malachi  might  clap  his  wings  upon  this,  but,  alas  !  domestic 
anxiety  has  cut  his  comb. 

I  think  very  lightly  in  general  of  praise ;  it  costs  men 
nothing,  and  is  usually  only  lip-salve.  They  wish  to  please, 
and  must  suppose  that  flattery  is  the  ready  road  to  the  good 
will  of  every  professor  of  literature.  Some  praise,  however, 
and  from  some  people,  does  at  once  delight  and  strengthen 
the  mind,  and  I  insert  in  this  place  the  quotation  with 
which  Lid.  C.  Baron  Shepherd  concluded  a  letter  concerning 
me  to  the  Chief  Commissioner :  "  Magna  etiam  ilia  laus  et 
admirdbilis  videri  solel  tulisse  casus  sapienter  adversos,  non 
fractum  esse  fortund,  retinuisse  in  rebus  asperis  dignitatem"1 
I  record  these  words,  not  as  meriting  the  high  praise  they 
imply,  but  to  remind  me  that  such  an  opinion  being  partially 
entertained  of  me  by  a  man  of  a  character  so  eminent,  it 
becomes  me  to  make  my  conduct  approach  as  much  as 
possible  to  the  standard  at  which  he  rates  it. 

As  I  must  pay  back  to  Terry  some  cash  in  London,  £170, 
together  with  other  matters  here,  I  have  borrowed  from  Mr. 
Alexander  Ballantyne  the  sum  of  £500,  upon  a  promissory 
note  for  £512,  10s.  payable  15th  November  to  him  or  his 
order.  If  God  should  call  me  before  that  time,  I  request 
my  son  Walter  will,  in  reverence  to  my  memory,  see  that 
Mr.  Alexander  Ballantyne  does  not  suffer  for  having  obliged 
me  in  a  sort  of  exigency — he  cannot  afford  it,  and  God  has 
given  my  son  the  means  to  repay  him. 

May  14. — A  fair  good-morrow  to  you,  Mr.  Sun,  who  are 
shining  so  brightly  on  these  dull  walls.  Methinks  you  look 
as  if  you  were  looking  as  bright  on  the  banks  of  the  Tweed ; 
but  look  where  you  will,  Sir  Sun,  you  look  upon  sorrow  and 
suffering.  Hogg  was  here  yesterday  in  danger,  from  having 
obtained  an  accommodation  of  £100  from  Mr.  Ballantyne, 
which  he  is  now  obliged  to  repay.  I  am  unable  to  help  the 
poor  fellow,  being  obliged  to  borrow  myself.  But  I  long  ago 

1  Cicero,  de  Oral.  ii.  p.  346. — J.  G.  L. 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  193 

remonstrated  against  the  transaction  at  all,  and  gave  him 
£50  out  of  my  pocket  to  avoid  granting  the  accommodation, 
but  it  did  no  good. 

May  1 5. — Eeceived  the  melancholy  intelligence  that  all 
is  over  at  Abbotsford. 

[Abbotsford,]  May  16. — She  died  at  nine  in  the  morning, 
after  being  very  ill  for  two  days, — easy  at  last. 

I  arrived  here  late  last  night.  Anne  is  worn  out,  and  has 
had  hysterics,  which  returned  on  my  arrival.  Her  broken 
accents  were  like  those  of  a  child,  the  language,  as  well  as  the 
tones,  broken,  but  in  the  most  gentle  voice  of  submission. 
"  Poor  mamma — never  return  again — gone  for  ever — a  better 
place."  Then,  when  she  came  to  herself,  she  spoke  with  sense, 
freedom,  and  strength  of  mind,  till  her  weakness  returned. 
It  would  have  been  inexpressibly  moving  to  me  as  a  stranger 
— what  was  it  then  to  the  father  and  the  husband  ?  For 
myself,  I  scarce  know  how  I  feel,  sometimes  as  firm  as  the 
Bass  Rock,  sometimes  as  weak  as  the  wave  that  breaks  on  it. 

I  am  as  alert  at  thinking  and  deciding  as  I  ever  was  in 
my  life.  Yet,  when  I  contrast  what  this  place  now  is,  with 
what  it  has  been  not  long  since,  I  think  my  heart  will 
break.  Lonely,  aged,  deprived  of  my  family — all  but  poor 
Anne,  an  impoverished  and  embarrassed  man,  I  am  de- 
prived of  the  sharer  of  my  thoughts  and  counsels,  who  could 
always  talk  down  my  sense  of  the  calamitous  appre- 
hensions which  break  the  heart  that  must  bear  them  alone. 
Even  her  foibles  were  of  service  to  me,  by  giving  me  things 
to  think  of  beyond  my  weary  self-reflections. 

I  have  seen  her.  The  figure  I  beheld  is,  and  is  not,  my 
Charlotte — my  thirty  years'  companion.  There  is  the  same 
symmetry  of  form,  though  those  limbs  are  rigid  which  were 
once  so  gracefully  elastic — but  that  yellow  masque,  with 
pinched  features, which  seems  to  mock  life  rather  than  emulate 
it,  can  it  be  the  face  that  was  once  so  full  of  lively  expression  ? 
I  will  not  look  on  it  again.  Anne  thinks  her  little  changed, 

R 


194  JOURNAL.  [MAY 

because  the  latest  idea  she  had  formed  of  her  mother  is  as 
she  appeared  under  circumstances  of  sickness  and  pain. 
Mine  go  back  to  a  period  of  comparative  health.  If  I  write 
long  in  this  way,  I  shall  write  down  my  resolution,  which  I 
should  rather  write  up,  if  I  could.  I  wonder  how  I  shall  do 
with  the  large  portion  of  thoughts  which  were  hers  for  thirty 
years.  I  suspect  they  will  be  hers  yet  for  a  long  time  at  least. 
But  I  will  not  blaze  cambric  and  crape  in  the  public  eye  like 
a  disconsolate  widower,  that  most  affected  of  all  characters. 

May  17. — Last  night  Anne,  after  conversing  with 
apparent  ease,  dropped  suddenly  down  as  she  rose  from  the 
supper-table,  and  lay  six  or  seven  minutes  as  if  dead. 
Clarkson,  however,  has  no  fear  of  these  affections. 

May  18. — Another  day,  and  a  bright  one  to  the  external 
world,  again  opens  on  us;  the  air  soft,  and  the  flowers 
smiling,  and  the  leaves  glittering.  They  cannot  refresh  her 
to  whom  mild  weather  was  a  natural  enjoyment.  Cerements 
of  lead  and  of  wood  already  hold  her ;  cold  earth  must  have 
her  soon.  But  it  is  not  my  Charlotte,  it  is  not  the  bride 
of  my  youth,  the  mother  of  my  children,  that  will  be  laid 
among  the  ruins  of  Dryburgh,  which  we  have  so  often  visited 
in  gaiety  and  pastime.  No,  no.  She  is  sentient  and  con- 
scious of  my  emotions  somewhere — somehow ;  where  we 
cannot  tell;  how  we  cannot  tell;  yet  would  I  not  at  this 
moment  renounce  the  mysterious  yet  certain  hope  that  I 
shall  see  her  in  a  better  world,  for  all  that  this  world  can 
give  me.  The  necessity  of  this  separation, — that  necessity 
which  rendered  it  even  a  relief, — that  and  patience  must 
be  my  comfort.  I  do  not  experience  those  paroxysms  of 
grief  which  others  do  on  the  same  occasion.  I  can  exert 
myself  and  speak  even  cheerfully  with  the  poor  girls.  But 
alone,  or  if  anything  touches  me — the  choking  sensation. 
I  have  been  to  her  room:  there  was  no  voice  in  it — no 
stirring ;  the  pressure  of  the  coffin  was  visible  on  the  bed, 
but  it  had  been  removed  elsewhere;  all  was  neat  as  she 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  195 

loved  it,  but  all  was  calm — calm  as  death.  I  remembered 
the  last  sight  of  her ;  she  raised  herself  in  bed,  and  tried  to 
turn  her  eyes  after  me,  and  said,  with  a  sort  of  smile,  "  You 
all  have  such  melancholy  faces."  They  were  the  last  words 
I  ever  heard  her  utter,  and  I  hurried  away,  for  she  did  not 
seem  quite  conscious  of  what  she  said.  When  I  returned, 
immediately  [before]  departing,  she  was  in  a  deep  sleep.  It 
is  deeper  now.  This  was  but  seven  days  since. 

They  are  arranging  the  chamber  of  death;  that  which 
was  long  the  apartment  of  connubial  happiness,  and  of 
whose  arrangements  (better  than  in  richer  houses)  she  was 
so  proud.  They  are  treading  fast  and  thick.  For  weeks 
you  could  have  heard  a  foot-fall.  Oh,  my  God  ! 

May  19. — Anne,  poor  love,  is  ill  with  her  exertions  and 
agitation — cannot  walk — and  is  still  hysterical,  though  less 
so.  I  advised  flesh-brush  and  tepid  bath,  which  I  think 
will  bring  her  about.  We  speak  freely  of  her  whom  we 
have  lost,  and  mix  her  name  with  our  ordinary  conversation. 
This  is  the  rule  of  nature.  All  primitive  people  speak  of 
their  dead,  and  I  think  virtuously  and  wisely.  The  idea  of 
blotting  the  names  of  those  who  are  gone  out  of  the  language 
and  familiar  discourse  of  those  to  whom  they  were  dearest 
is  one  of  the  rules  of  ultra-civilisation  which,  in  so  many 
instances,  strangle  natural  feeling  by  way  of  avoiding  a 
painful  sensation.  The  Highlanders  speak  of  their  dead 
children  as  freely  as  of  their  living,  and  mention  how 
poor  Colin  or  Robert  would  have  acted  in  such  or  such 
a  situation.  It  is  a  generous  and  manly  tone  of  feeling; 
and,  so  far  as  it  may  be  adopted  without  affectation  or 
contradicting  the  general  habits  of  society,  I  reckon  on 
observing  it. 

May  20. — To-night,  I  trust,  will  bring  Charles  or  Lockhart, 
or  both;  at  least  I  must  hear  from  them.  A  letter  from 
Violet  [Lockhart]  gave  us  the  painful  intelligence  that  she 
had  not  mentioned  to  Sophia  the  dangerous  state  in  which 


196  JOUENAL.  [MAY 

her  mother  was.  Most  kindly  meant,  but  certainly  not  so 
well  judged.  I  have  always  thought  that  truth,  even  when 
painful,  is  a  great  duty  on  such  occasions,  and  it  is  seldom 
that  concealment  is  justifiable. 

Sophia's  baby  was  christened  on  Sunday,  14th  May,  at 
Brighton,  by  the  name  of  "Walter  Scott.1  May  God  give 
him  life  and  health  to  wear  it  with  credit  to  himself  and 
those  belonging  to  him.  Melancholy  to  think  that  the  next 
morning  after  this  ceremony  deprived  him  of  so  near  a 
relation.  Sent  Mr.  Curie  £11  to  remit  Mrs.  Bohn,  York 
Street,  Covent  Garden,  for  books — I  thought  I  had  paid  the 
poor  woman  before. 

May  21. — Our  sad  preparations  for  to-morrow  continue. 
A  letter  from  Lockhart ;  doubtful  if  Sophia's  health  or  his 
own  state  of  business  will  let  him  be  here.  If  things  permit 
he  comes  to-night.  From  Charles  not  a  word ;  but  I  think 
I  may  expect  him.  I  wish  to-morrow  were  over ;  not  that  I 
fear  it,  for  my  nerves  are  pretty  good,  but  it  will  be  a  day 
of  many  recollections. 

May  22. — Charles  arrived  last  night,  much  affected  of 
course.  Anne  had  a  return  of  her  fainting-fits  on  seeing 
him,  and  again  upon  seeing  Mr.  Eamsay,  the  gentleman  who 
performs  the  service.2  I  heard  him  do  so  with  the  utmost 
propriety  for  my  late  friend,  Lady  Alvanley,3  the  arrange- 
ment of  whose  funeral  devolved  upon  me.  How  little  I 
could  guess  when,  where,  and  with  respect  to  whom  I  should 
next  hear  those  solemn  words.  Well,  I  am  not  apt  to  shrink 

1  Walter  Scott  Lockhart,  died  at  known  as  the  much-loved  ' '  Dean 
Versailles  in  1853,  and  was  buried  Ramsay ,"  author  of  Reminiscences  of 
in   the    Cemetery  of  Notre-Dame  Scottish  Life  and  Character.     This 
there.  venerable  Scottish  gentleman  was 

2  The  Rev.  Edward  Bannerman  for  many  years  the  delight  of  all 
Ramsay,  A.M.,  St.  John's  College,  who  had  the  privilege  of  knowing 
Cambridge,  incumbent  St.  John's,  him.     He  died  at  the  age  of  eighty- 
Edinburgh,  afterwards  Dean  of  the  three  in  his  house,  23  Ainslie  Place, 
Diocese    in    the    Scots    Episcopal  Edinburgh,  Dec.  27th,  1872. 
Church,    and    still     more    widely  3  See  Life,  vol.  iv.  p.  2. 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  197 

from  that  which  is  my  duty,  merely  because  it  is  painful ; 
but  I  wish  this  day  over.  A  kind  of  cloud  of  stupidity 
hangs  about  me,  as  if  all  were  unreal  that  men  seem  to  be 
doing  and  talking  about. 

May  23. — About  an  hour  before  the  mournful  ceremony 
of  yesterday,  Walter  arrived,  having  travelled  express  from 
Ireland  on  receiving  the  news.  He  was  much  affected,  poor 
fellow,  and  no  wonder.  Poor  Charlotte  nursed  him,  and 
perhaps  for  that  reason  she  was  ever  partial  to  him.  The 
whole  scene  floats  as  a  sort  of  dream  before  me — the  beautiful 
day,  the  grey  ruins  covered  and  hidden  among  clouds  of 
foliage  and  flourish,  where  the  grave,  even  in  the  lap  of 
beauty,  lay  lurking  and  gaped  for  its  prey.  Then  the  grave 
looks,  the  hasty  important  bustle  of  men  with  spades  and 
mattocks — the  train  of  carriages — the  coffin  containing  the 
creature  that  was  so  long  the  dearest  on  earth  to  me,  and 
whom  I  was  to  consign  to  the  very  spot  which  in  pleasure- 
parties  we  so  frequently  visited.  It  seems  still  as  if  this 
could  not  be  really  so.  But  it  is  so — and  duty  to  God  and 
to  my  children  must  teach  me  patience. 

Poor  Anne  has  had  longer  fits  since  our  arrival  from 
Dryburgh  than  before,  but  yesterday  was  the  crisis.  She 
desired  to  hear  prayers  read  by  Mr.  Eamsay,  who  performed 
the  duty  in  a  most  solemn  manner.  But  her  strength  could 
not  carry  it  through.  She  fainted  before  the  service  was 
concluded.1 

1  Mr.  Skene  has  preserved  the  resigned  to  her  distress,  but  has 

following    note    written    on     this  been  visited  by  many  fainting  fits, 

day: — "I  take  the  advantage  of  Mr.  the  effect,  I  am  told,  of  weakness, 

Ramsay's  return  to  Edinburgh  to  over-exertion,  and  distress  of  mind, 

answer  your  kind  letter.     It  would  Her  brothers  are  both  here — Walter 

have  done  no.  good  to  have  brought  having  arrived  from  Ireland  yester- 

you  here  when  I   could  not  have  day  in  time  to  assist  at  the  munus 

enjoyed  your  company,  and  there  inane  ;  their  presence  will  do  her 

were  enough  friends  here  to  ensure  much  good,  but  I  cannot  think  of 

everything  being  properly  adjusted,  leaving  her  till  Monday  next,   nor 

Anne,  contrary  to  a  natural  weak-  could  I  do  my  brethren  much  good 

ness  of  temper,  is  quite  quiet  and  by  coming  to  town,  having  still  that 


198  JOURNAL.  [MAY 

May  24. — Slept  wretchedly,  or  rather  waked  wretchedly, 
all  night,  and  was  very  sick  and  bilious  in  consequence,  and 
scarce  able  to  hold  up  my  head  with  pain.  A  walk,  how- 
ever, with  my  sons  did  me  a  great  deal  of  good ;  indeed  their 
society  is  the  greatest  support  the  world  can  afford  me. 
Their  ideas  of  everything  are  so  just  and  honourable,  kind 
towards  their  sisters,  and  affectionate  to  me,  that  I  must  be 
grateful  to  God  for  sparing  them  to  me,  and  continue  to 
battle  with  the  world  for  their  sakes,  if  not  for  my  own. 

May  25. — I  had  sound  sleep  to-night,  and  waked  with 
little  or  nothing  of  the  strange,  dreamy  feeling  which  made 
me  for  some  days  feel  like  one  bewildered  in  a  country 
where  mist  or  snow  has  disguised  those  features  of  the  land- 
scape which  are  best  known  to  him. 

Walter  leaves  me  to-day ;  he  seems  disposed  to  take  in- 
terest in  country  affairs,  which  will  be  an  immense  resource, 
supposing  him  to  tire  of  the  army  in  a  few  years.  Charles, 
he  and  I,  went  up  to  Ashestiel  to  call  upon  the  Misses 
Russell,  who  have  kindly  promised  to  see  Anne  on  Tuesday. 
This  evening  Walter  left  us,  being  anxious  to  return  to  his 
wife  as  well  as  to  his  regiment.  We  expect  he  will  be  here 
early  in  autumn,  with  his  household. 

May  26. — A  rough  morning,  and  makes  me  think  of 
St.  George's  Channel,  which  Walter  must  cross  to-night  or 
to-morrow  to  get  to  Athlone.  The  wind  is  almost  due  east, 
however,  and  the  channel  at  the  narrowest  point  between 
Port-Patrick  and  Donaghadee.  His  absence  is  a  great  blank 
in  our  circle,  especially,  I  think,  to  his  sister  Anne,  to  whom 
he  shows  invariably  much  kindness.  But  indeed  they  do  so 
without  exception  each  towards  the  other ;  and  in  weal  or 

stunned  and  giddy  feeling   which  "Mr.   Ramsay,   who  I  find  is  a 

great  calamities  necessarily  produce,  friend  of  yours,  appears  an  excellent 

It  will  soon  give  way  to  my  usual  young  man. — My  kind  love  to  Mrs. 

state  of  mind,  and  my  friends  will  Skene,  and  am  always,  yours  truly, 

not  find  me  much  different  from  "  WALTER  SCOTT. 

what  I  have  usually  been.  "  ABBOTSFORD,  ZSd  May." 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  199 

woe  have  shown  themselves  a  family  of  love.  No  per- 
suasion could  force  on  Walter  any  of  his  poor  mother's 
ornaments  for  his  wife.  He  undid  a  reading-glass  from  the 
gold  chain  to  which  it  was  suspended,  and  agreed  to  give 
the  glass  to  Jane,  but  would  on  no  account  retain  the  chain. 
I  will  go  to  town  on  Monday  and  resume  my  labours. 
Being  of  a  grave  nature,  they  cannot  go  against  the  general 
temper  of  my  feelings,  and  in  other  respects  the  exertion, 
as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  will  do  me  good ;  besides,  I  must 
re-establish  my  fortune  for  the  sake  of  the  children,  and  of 
my  own  character.  I  have  not  leisure  to  indulge  the  dis- 
abling and  discouraging  thoughts  that  press  on  me.  "Were 
an  enemy  coming  upon  my  house,  would  I  not  do  my  best 
to  fight,  although  oppressed  in  spirits,  and  shall  a  similar 
despondency  prevent  me  from  mental  exertion?  It  shall 
not,  by  Heaven!  This  day  and  to-morrow  I  give  to  the 
currency  of  the  ideas  which  have  of  late  occupied  my  mind, 
and  with  Monday  they  shall  be  mingled  at  least  with  other 
thoughts  and  cares.  Last  night  Charles  and  I  walked  late 
on  the  terrace  at  Kaeside,  when  the  clouds  seemed  accumu- 
lating in  the  wildest  masses  both  on  the  Eildon  Hills  and 
other  mountains  in  the  distance.  This  rough  morning  reads 
the  riddle. 

Dull,  drooping,  cheerless  has  the  day  been.  I  cared  not 
to  carry  my  own  gloom  to  the  girls,  and  so  sate  in  my  own 
room,  dawdling  with  old  papers,  which  awakened  as  many 
stings  as  if  they  had  been  the  nest  of  fifty  scorpions.  Then 
the  solitude  seemed  so  absolute — my  poor  Charlotte  would 
have  been  in  the  room  half-a-score  of  times  to  see  if  the  fire 
burned,  and  to  ask  a  hundred  kind  questions.  Well,  that  is 
over — and  if  it  cannot  be  forgotten,  must  be  remembered 
with  patience. 

May  27. — A  sleepless  night.  It  is  time  I  should  be  up 
and  be  doing,  and  a  sleepless  night  sometimes  furnishes  good 
ideas.  Alas !  I  have  no  companion  now  with  whom  I  can 


200  JOURNAL.  [MAY 

communicate  to  relieve  the  loneliness  of  these  watches  of 
the  night.  But  I  must  not  fail  myself  and  my  family — and 
the  necessity  of  exertion  becomes  apparent.  I  must  try  a 
kors  d'ceuvre,  something  that  can  go  on  between  the  neces- 
sary intervals  of  Nap.  Mrs.  M[urray]  K[eith's]  Tale  of  the 
Deserter,  with  her  interview  with  the  lad's  mother,  may  be 
made  most  affecting,  but  will  hardly  endure  much  expansion.1 
The  framework  may  be  a  Highland  tour,  under  the  guar- 
dianship of  the  sort  of  postilion,  whom  Mrs.  M.  K.  described 
to  me — a  species  of  conductor  who  regulated  the  motions  of 
his  company,  made  their  halts,  and  was  their  cicerone. 

May  28. — I  wrote  a  few  pages  yesterday,  and  then 
walked.  I  believe  the  description  of  the  old  Scottish  lady 
may  do,  but  the  change  has  been  unceasingly  rung  upon 
Scottish  subjects  of  late,  and  it  strikes  me  that  the  intro- 
ductory matter  may  be  considered  as  an  imitation  of  Wash- 
ington Irving.  Yet  not  so  neither.  In  short,  I  will  go  on, 
to-day  make  a  dozen  of  close  pages  ready,  and  take  J.  B.'s 
advice.  I  intend  the  work  as  an  olla  podrida,  into  which 
any  species  of  narrative  or  discussion  may  be  thrown. 

I  wrote  easily.  I  think  the  exertion  has  done  me  good. 
I  slept  sound  last  night,  and  at  waking,  as  is  usual  with  me, 
I  found  I  had  some  clear  views  and  thoughts  upon  the  sub- 
ject of  this  trifling  work.  I  wonder  if  others  find  so  strongly 
as  I  do  the  truth  of  the  Latin  proverb,  Aurora  musis  arnica. 
If  I  forget  a  thing  over-night,  I  am  sure  to  recollect  it  as 
my  eyes  open  in  the  morning.  The  same  if  I  want  an  idea, 
or  am  encumbered  by  some  difficulty,  the  moment  of  waking 
always  supplies  the  deficiency,  or  gives  me  courage  to  en- 
dure the  alternative.2 

May  29. — To-day  I  leave  for  Edinburgh  this  house  of 
sorrow.  In  the  midst  of  such  distress,  I  have  the  great 
pleasure  to  see  Anne  regaining  her  health,  and  showing  both 

1  The  Higldand  Widow,  Waverley  Novels,  vol.  xli. 

2  See  February  10,  1826. 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  201 

patience  and  steadiness  of  mind.  God  continue  this,  for 
my  own  sake  as  well  as  hers.  Much  of  my  future  comfort 
must  depend  upon  her. 

[Edinburgh,]  May  30. — Eeturned  to  town  last  night  with 
Charles.  This  morning  resume  ordinary  habits  of  rising 
early,  working  in  the  morning,  and  attending  the  Court. 
All  will  come  easily  round.  But  it  is  at  first  as  if  men 
looked  strange  on  me,  and  bit  their  lip  when  they  wring  my 
hand,  and  indicated  suppressed  feelings.  It  is  natural 
this  should  be — undoubtedly  it  has  been  so  with  me. 
Yet  it  is  strange  to  find  one's-self  resemble  a  cloud  which 
darkens  gaiety  wherever  it  interposes  its  chilling  shade. 
Will  it  be  better  when,  left  to  my  own  feelings,  I  see  the 
whole  world  pipe  and  dance  around  me  ?  I  think  it  will. 
Thus  sympathy  intrudes  on  my  private  affliction. 

I  finished  correcting  the  proofs  for  the  Quarterly ;  it  is 
but  a  flimsy  article,  but  then  the  circumstances  were  most 
untoward. 

This  has  been  a  melancholy  day,  most  melancholy.  I 
am  afraid  poor  Charles  found  me  weeping.  I  do  not 
know  what  other  folks  feel,  but  with  me  the  hysterical 
passion  that  impels  tears  is  of  terrible  violence — a  sort 
of  throttling  sensation — then  succeeded  by  a  state  of 
dreaming  stupidity,  in  which  I  ask  if  my  poor  Charlotte 
can  actually  be  dead.  I  think  I  feel  my  loss  more  than 
at  the  first  blow. 

Poor  Charles  wishes  to  come  back  to  study  here  when 
his  term  ends  at  Oxford.  I  can  see  the  motive. 

May  31. — The  melancholy  hours  of  yesterday  must  not 
return.  To  encourage  that  dreamy  state  of  incapacity  is  to 
resign  all  authority  over  the  mind,  and  I  have  been  wont 

to  say — 

"  My  mind  to  me  a  kingdom  is." x 

1  This     excellent     philosophical     in  the  sixteenth  century. — Percy's 
song  appears  to  have  been  famous      Heliques,  vol.  i.  307. — J.G.L. 


202  JOURNAL.  [MAY  1826. 

I  am  rightful  monarch;  and,  God  to  aid,  I  will  not  be 
dethroned  by  any  rebellious  passion  that  may  rear  its 
standard  against  me.  Such  are  morning  thoughts,  strong 
as  carle-hemp — says  Burns — 

"  Come,  firm  Kesolve,  take  thou  the  van, 
Thou  stalk  of  carle-hemp  in  man." 

Charles  went  by  the  steam-boat  this  morning  at  six.  We 
parted  last  night  mournfully  on  both  sides.  Poor  boy,  this 
is  his  first  serious  sorrow.  Wrote  this  morning  a  Memorial 
on  the  Claims  which  Constable's  people  prefer  as  to  the 
copyrights  of  Woodstock  and  Napoleon.1 
1  See  June  2. 


JUNE. 

June  1. — Yesterday  I  also  finished  a  few  trifling  memo- 
randa on  a  book  called  The  Omen,  at  Blackwood's  request. 
There  is  something  in  the  work  which  pleases  me,  and  the 
style  is  good,  though  the  story  is  not  artfully  conducted.  I 
dined  yesterday  in  family  with  Skene,  and  had  a  visit  from 
Lord  Chief-Commissioner;  we  met  as  mourners  under  a 
common  calamity.  There  is  something  extremely  kind  in 
his  disposition. 

Sir  R  D[undas]  offers  me  three  days  of  the  country  next 
week,  which  tempts  me  strongly  were  it  but  the  prospect 
of  seeing  Anne.  But  I  think  I  must  resist  and  say  with 

Tilburina, 

"  Duty,  I  'm  all  thine  own." l 

If  I  do  this  I  shall  deserve  a  holiday  about  the  15th  June, 
and  I  think  it  is  best  to  wait  till  then. 

June  2. — A  pleasant  letter  from  Sophia,  poor  girl ;  all 
doing  well  there,  for  which  God  be  praised. 

I  wrote  a  good  task  yesterday,  five  pages,  which  is  nearly 
double  the  usual  stint. 

I  am  settled  that  I  will  not  go  to  Abbotsford  till  to- 
morrow fortnight. 

I  might  have  spared  myself  the  trouble  of  my  self-denial, 
for  go  I  cannot,  Hamilton  having  a  fit  of  gout. 

Gibson  seems  in  high  spirits  on  the  views  I  have  given  to 
him  on  the  nature  of  Constable  and  Co.'s  claim.  It  amounts 
to  this,  that  being  no  longer  accountable  as  publishers,  they 
cannot  claim  the  character  of  such,  or  plead  upon  any  claim 

1  Sheridan's  Critic,  Act  iv.  Sc.  2. 

203 


204  JOURNAL.  [JUNE 

arising  out  of  the  contracts  entered  into  while  they  held 
that  capacity. 

June  3. — I  was  much  disturbed  this  morning  by  bile 
and  its  consequences,  and  lost  so  much  sleep  that  I  have 
been  rather  late  in  rising  by  way  of  indemnification.  I  must 
go  to  the  map  and  study  the  Italian  campaigns  instead  of 
scribbling. 

June  4. — I  wrote  a  good  task  yesterday,  and  to-day  a 
great  one,  scarce  stirring  from  the  desk  the  whole  day, 
except  a  few  minutes  when  Lady  Eae  called.  I  was  glad 
to  see  my  wife's  old  friend,  with  whom  in  early  life  we  had 
so  many  liaisons.  I  am  not  sure  it  is  right  to  work  so  hard ; 
but  a  man  must  take  himself,  as  well  as  other  people,  when 
he  is  in  the  humour.  A  man  will  do  twice  as  much  at 
one  time  and  in  half  the  time,  and  twice  as  well  as  he 
will  be  able  to  do  at  another.  People  are  always  crying 
out  about  method,  and  in  some  respects  it  is  good,  and  shows 
to  great  advantage  among  men  of  business,  but  I  doubt  if 
men  of  method,  who  can  lay  aside  or  take  up  the  pen  just 
at  the  hour  appointed,  will  ever  be  better  than  poor 
creatures.  Lady  L[ouisa]  S[tuart]  used  to  tell  me  of  Mr. 
Hoole,  the  translator  of  Tasso  and  Ariosto,  and  in  that 
capacity  a  noble  transmuter  of  gold  into  lead,  that  he  was 
a  clerk  in  the  India  House,  with  long  ruffles  and  a  snuff- 
coloured  suit  of  clothes,  who  occasionally  visited  her  father 
[John,  Earl  of  Bute].  She  sometimes  conversed  with  him, 
and  was  amused  to  find  that  he  did  exactly  so  many  coup- 
lets day  by  day,  neither  more  or  less ;  and  habit  had  made 
it  light  to  him,  however  heavy  it  might  seem  to  the  reader. 

Well,  but  if  I  lay  down  the  pen,  as  the  pain  in  my 
breast  hints  that  I  should,  what  am  I  to  do  ?  If  I  think, 
why,  I  shall  weep — and  that's  nonsense;  and  I  have  no 
friend  now — none — to  receive  my  tediousness  for  half-an- 
hour  of  the  gloaming.  Let  me  be  grateful — I  have  good 
news  from  Abbotsford. 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  205 

June  5. — Though  this  be  Monday,  I  am  not  able  to 
feague  it  away,  as  Bayes  says.1  Between  correcting  proofs 
and  writing  letters,  I  have  got  as  yet  but  two  pages 
written,  and  that  with  labour  and  a  sensation  of  pain  in 
the  chest.  I  may  be  bringing  on  some  serious  disease  by 
working  thus  hard;  if  I  had  once  justice  done  to  other 
folks,  I  do  not  much  care,  only  I  would  not  like  to  suffer 
long  pain.  Harden  made  me  a  visit.  He  argued  with  me 
that  Lord  M.  amche'd  his  own  importance  too  much  at  the 
election,  and  says  Henry  is  anxious  about  it.  I  hinted  to 
him  the  necessity  of  counter-balancing  it  the  next  time, 
which  will  be  soon. 

Thomson  also  called  about  the  Bannatyne  Club. 

These  two  interruptions  did  me  good,  though  I  am  still 
a  poor  wretch. 

After  all,  I  have  fagged  through  six  pages;  and  made 
poor  Wurmser  lay  down  his  sword  on  the  glacis  of  Mantua 
— and  my  head  aches — my  eyes  ache — my  back  aches — so 
does  my  breast — and  I  am  sure  my  heart  aches,  and  what 
can  Duty  ask  more  ? 

June  6. — I  arose  much  better  this  morning,  having 
taken  some  medicine,  which  has  removed  the  strange  and 
aching  feeling  in  my  back  and  breast.  I  believe  it  is  from 
the  diaphragm ;  it  must  be  looked  to,  however.  I  have  not 
yet  breakfasted,  yet  have  cleared  half  my  day's  work  hold- 
ing it  at  the  ordinary  stint. 

Worked  hard.     John  Swinton,  my  kinsman,  came  to  see 

i  Buckingham's  Rehearsed. — The  In  some  subsequent  editions  the 

expression  "To  Feague"  does  not  words  are: — "I  lay  my  head  close 

occur  in  the  first  edition,  where  the  to  it  with  a  snuff-box  in  my  hand, 

passage  stands  thus  : —  and  I  feague  it  away.     I' faith." 

"  Phys. — When  a  knotty   point  I  am  indebted  to  Dr.  Murray  for 

comes,  I  lay  my  head  close  to  it,  this    reference,    which   he    kindly 

with  a  pipe  of  tobacco  in  my  mouth  furnished  me  with  from  the  mate- 

and  then  whew  it  away.     I'  faith.  rials  collected  for  his  great  Eng- 

"  Bayes. — I  do  just  so,  i'    gad,  lish  Dictionary, 
always."    Act  ir.  Sc.  4. 


206  JOUENAL.  [JUNE 

me, — very  kind  and  affectionate  in  his  manner ;  my  heart 
always  warms  to  that  Swinton  connection,  so  faithful  to  old 
Scottish  feelings.  Harden  was  also  with  me.  I  talked 
with  him  about  what  Lord  M.  did  at  the  election ;  I  find 
that  he  disapproves — I  see  these  visits  took  place  on  the  5th. 

June  7. — Again  a  day  of  hard  work,  only  at  half-past 
eight  I  went  to  the  Dean  of  Faculty's  to  a  consultation 
about  Constable,1  and  met  with  said  Dean  and  Mr.  [J.  S.] 
More  and  J.  Gibson.  I  find  they  have  as  high  hope  of 
success  as  lawyers  ought  to  express ;  and  I  think  I  know 
how  our  profession  speak  when  sincere.  I  cannot  interest 
myself  deeply  in  it.  When  I  had  come  home  from  such  a 
business,  I  used  to  carry  the  news  to  poor  Charlotte,  who 
dressed  her  face  in  sadness  or  mirth  as  she  saw  the  news 
affect  me;  this  hangs  lightly  about  me.  I  had  almost 
forgot  the  appointment,  if  J.  Gr.  had  not  sent  me  a  card, 
I  passed  a  piper  in  the  street  as  I  went  to  the  Dean's 
and  could  not  help  giving  him  a  shilling  to  play  Pibroch  a 
Donuil  Dhu  for  luck's  sake — what  a  child  I  am ! 

June  8. — Bilious  and  headache  this  morning.  A  dog 
howl'd  all  night  and  left  me  little  sleep.  Poor  cur  !  I  dare 
say  he  had  his  distresses,  as  I  have  mine.  I  was  obliged  to 
make  Dalgleish  shut  the  windows  when  he  appeared  at 
half-past  six,  as  usual,  and  did  not  rise  till  nine,  when  me 
voici.  I  have  often  deserved  a  headache  in  my  younger 
days  without  having  one,  and  Nature  is,  I  suppose,  paying 
off  old  scores.  Ay,  but  then  the  want  of  the  affectionate 
care  that  used  to  be  ready,  with  lowered  voice  and  stealthy 
pace,  to  smooth  the  pillow — and  offer  condolence  and  as- 
sistance,— gone — gone — for  ever — ever — ever.  Well,  there 
is  another  world,  and  we'll  meet  free  from  the  mortal 

1  This  alludes  to  the  claim  ad-  Advocates  was  at  that  time  George 

vanced  by  the    creditors    of  Con-  Cranstoun,  afterwards  a  judge  on 

stable   and  Co.   to  the  copyright  the  Scottish  Bench  under  the  title 

of  Woodstock  and  the  Life  of  Napo-  of  Lord  Corehouse,  from  1826  until 

feon.      The  Dean  of  the  Faculty  of  1839,  when  he  retired ;  he  died  1850. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  207 

sorrows  and  frailties  which  beset  us  here.  Amen,  so  be  it 
Let  me  change  the  topic  with  hand  and  head,  and  the  heart 
must  follow. 

I  think  that  sitting  so  many  days  and  working  so  hard 
may  have  brought  on  this  headache.  I  must  inflict  a  walk 
on  myself  to-day.  Strange  that  what  is  my  delight  in  the 
country  is  here  a  sort  of  penance !  "Well,  but  now  I  think 
on  it,  I  will  go  to  the  Chief-Baron  and  try  to  get  his  Lord- 
ship's opinion  about  the  question  with  Constable ;  if  I  carry 
it,  as  there  is,  I  trust,  much  hope  I  shall,  Mr.  Gibson  says 
there  will  be  funds  to  divide  6s.  in  the  pound,  without  count- 
ing upon  getting  anything  from  Constable  or  Hurst,  but 
sheer  hard  cash  of  my  own.  Such  another  pull  is  possible, 
especially  if  Boney  succeeds,  and  the  rogue  had  a  knack  at 
success.  Such  another,  I  say,  and  we  touch  ground  I  believe, 
for  surely  Constable,  Robinson,  etc.,  must  pay  something; 
the  struggle  is  worth  waring l  a  headache  upon. 

I  finished  five  pages  to-day,  headache,  laziness,  and  all. 

June  9. — Corrected  a  stubborn  proof  this  morning. 
These  battles  have  been  the  death  of  many  a  man — I  think 
they  will  be  mine.  Well  but  it  clears  to  windward ;  so  we 
will  fag  on. 

Slept  well  last  night.  By  the  way,  how  intolerably 
selfish  this  Journal  makes  me  seem — so  much  attention  to 
one's  naturals  and  non-naturals !  Lord  Mackenzie 2  called, 
and  we  had  much  chat  about  business.  The  late  regulations 
for  preparing  cases  in  the  Outer-House  do  not  work  well, 
and  thus  our  old  machinery,  which  was  very  indifferent,  is 
succeeded  by  a  kind  that  will  hardly  move  at  all.  Mac- 
kenzie says  his  business  is  trebled,  and  that  he  cannot  keep 
it  up.  I  question  whether  the  extreme  strictness  of  rules 
of  court  be  advisable  •  in  practice  they  are  always  evaded, 

1  i.e.  spending.  from  1822;  he  died  at  the  age  of 

2  The  eldest  son  of    '  The  Man     seventy -four  in  1851. 
of  Feeling."    He  had  been  a  judge 


208  JOURNAL.  [JUNE 

upon  an  equitable  showing.  I  do  not,  for  instance,  lodge  a 
paper  debito  tempore,  and  for  an  accident  happening,  perhaps 
through  the  blunder  of  a  Writer's  apprentice,  I  am  to  lose 
my  cause.  The  penalty  is  totally  disproportioned  to  the 
delict,  and  the  consequence  is,  that  means  are  found  out  of 
evasion  by  legal  fictions  and  the  like.  The  judges  listen  to 
these ;  they  become  frequent,  and  the  rule  of  Court  ends  by 
being  a  scarecrow  merely.  Formerly,  delays  of  this  kind 
were  checked  by  corresponding  amendes.  But  the  Court 
relaxed  this  petty  fine  too  often.  Had  they  been  more 
strict,  and  levied  the  mulct  on  the  agents,  with  no  recourse 
upon  their  clients,  the  abuse  might  have  been  remedied.  I 
fear  the  present  rule  is  too  severe  to  do  much  good. 

One  effect  of  running  causes  fast  through  the  Courts 
below  is,  that  they  go  by  scores  to  appeal,  and  Lord  Gifford1 
has  hitherto  decided  them  with  such  judgment,  and  so  much 
rapidity,  as  to  give  great  satisfaction.  The  consequence  will 
in  time  be,  that  the  Scottish  Supreme  Court  will  be  in  effect 
situated  in  London.  Then  down  fall — as  national  objects 
of  respect  and  veneration — the  Scottish  Bench,  the  Scottish 
Bar,  the  Scottish  Law  herself,  and — and — "  there  is  an  end  of 
an  auld  sang."2  Were  I  as  I  have  been,  I  would  fight  knee- 
deep  in  blood  ere  it  came  to  that.  But  it  is  a  catastrophe 
which  the  great  course  of  events  brings  daily  nearer — 

"  And  who  can  help  it,  Dick  ?  " 

I  shall  always  be  proud  of  Malachi  as  having  headed  back 
the  Southron,  or  helped  to  do  so,  in  one  instance  at  least. 

June  10. — This  was  an  unusual  teind-day  at  Court.  In 
the  morning  and  evening  I  corrected  proofs — four  sheets  in 
number ;  and  I  wrote  my  task  of  three  pages  and  a  little 
more.  Three  pages  a  day  will  come,  at  Constable's  rate,  to 

1  Baron  Gifford  died  a  few  months  in  the  autumn  of  1825. 
later,  viz.,  in  Sept.  1826;  he  had  2  Speech  of  Lord  Chancellor  Sea- 
been  Attorney-General  in  1819,  and  field    on    the    ratification    of     the 
Chief -Justice  in    1824.     Lord  and  Scottish  Union. — See  MisceU.  Prose 
Lady  Gifford  had  visited  Abbotsford  Works,  vol.  xxv.  p.  93. 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  209 

about  £12,000  to  £15,000  per  year.  They  have  sent  their 
claim ;  it  does  not  frighten  me  a  bit. 

June,  11. — Bad  dreams  about  poor  Charlotte.  Woke, 
thinking  my  old  and  inseparable  friend  beside  me ;  and  it 
was  only  when  I  was  fully  awake  that  I  could  persuade 
myself  that  she  was  dark,  low,  and  distant,  and  that  my  bed 
was  widowed.  I  believe  the  phenomena  of  dreaming  are  in 
a  great  measure  occasioned  by  the  double  touch,  which  takes 
place  when  one  hand  is  crossed  in  sleep  upon  another. 
Each  gives  and  receives  the  impression  of  touch  to  and  from 
the  other,  and  this  complicated  sensation  our  sleeping  fancy 
ascribes  to  the  agency  of  another  being,  when  it  is  in  fact 
produced  by  our  own  limbs  acting  on  each  other.  Well,  here 
goes — incumbite  remis. 

June  12. — Finished  volume  third  of  Napoleon.  I 
resumed  it  on  the  1st  of  June,  the  earliest  period  that  I 
could  bend  my  mind  to  it  after  my  great  loss.  Since  that 
time  I  have  lived,  to  be  sure,  the  life  of  a  hermit,  except 
attending  the  Court  five  days  in  the  week  for  about  three 
hours  on  an  average.  Except  at  that  time  I  have  been 
reading  or  writing  on  the  subject  of  Boney,  and  have  finished 
last  night,  and  sent  to  printer  this  morning  the  last  sheets 
of  fifty-two  written  since  1st  June.  It  is  an  awful  screed ; 
but  grief  makes  me  a  house-keeper,  and  to  labour  is  my  only 
resource.  Ballantyne  thinks  well  of  the  work — very  well, 
but  I  shall  [expect]  inaccuracies.  An'  it  were  to  do  again, 
I  would  get  some  one  to  look  it  over.  But  who  could  that 
some  one  be?  Whom  is  there  left  of  human  race  that  I 
could  hold  such  close  intimacy  with  ?  No  one.  "  Tanneguy 
du  Chdtel,  ou  es-tu  !  " 1  Worked  five  pages. 

June  13. — I  took  a  walk  out  last  evening  after  tea,  and 
called  on  Lord  Chief-Commissioner  and  the  Macdonald 
Buchanans,  that  kind  and  friendly  clan.  The  heat  is  very 
great,  and  the  wrath  of  the  bugs  in  proportion.  Two  hours 
last  night  I  was  kept  in  an  absolute  fever.  I  must  make 

1  See  Mor^ri's  Dictionnaire,  Art.  "Tanneguy  du  Chatel." 
0 


210  JOUENAL.  [JUNE 

some  arrangement  for  winter.  Great  pity  my  old  furniture 
was  sold  in  such  a  hurry !  The  wiser  way  would  have  been 
to  have  let  the  house  furnished.  But  it's  all  one  in  the 
Greek. 

"  Peccavi,  peccavi,  dies  quidem  sine  lined  !  "  I  walked  to 
make  calls ;  got  cruelly  hot ;  drank  ginger-beer ;  wrote  letters. 
Then  as  I  was  going  to  dinner,  enter  a  big  splay-footed, 
trifle-headed,  old  pottering  minister,  who  came  to  annoy  me 
about  a  claim  which  one  of  his  parishioners  has  to  be  Earl 
of  Annandale,  and  which  he  conceits  to  be  established  out 
of  the  Border  Minstrelsy.  He  mentioned  a  curious  thing — 
that  three  brothers  of  the  Johnstone  family,  on  whose 
descendants  the  male  representative  of  these  great  Border 
chiefs  devolved,  were  forced  to  fly  to  the  north  in  conse- 
quence of  their  feuds  with  the  Maxwells,  and  agreed  to 
change  their  names.  They  slept  on  the  side  of  the  Soutra 
Hills,  and  asking  a  shepherd  the  name  of  the  place,  agreed 
in  future  to  call  themselves  Sowtra  or  Sowter  Johnstones. 
The  old  pudding-headed  man  could  not  comprehend  a  word 
I  either  asked  him  or  told  him,  and  maundered  till  I  wished 
him  in  the  Annandale  beef-stand.1  Mr.  Gibson  came  in 

1  An  example  of  Scott's  wonder-  fist  effectually  indicated.     It  was 

ful  patience,  and  his  power  of  uti-  some  years  since  we  had  been  ship- 

lising  hints  gathered  from  the  most  mates,  he  had  since  visited  almost 

unpromising    materials.      Apropos  every  quarter  of  the  globe,  but  he 

of  this  Mr.   Skene  relates  : — ' '  In  shook  his  head,  and  looked  serious 

one  of  our  frequent  walks  to  the  when  he  came  to  mention  his  last 

pier  of  Leith,  to  which  the  fresh-  trip.     He  had  commanded  a  whaler, 

ness  of  the  sea  breeze   offered    a  and  having  been  for  weeks  exposed 

strong    inducement    to    those    ac-  to  great  stress  of  weather  in  the 

customed    to  pass   a    few    of    the  polar  regions,  finally  terminated  in 

morning    hours    within    the    close  the   total  loss  of  his  vessel,  with 

and    impure    atmosphere     of    the  most  of  her  equipage,  in  the  course 

Court  of  Session,    I  happened  to  of  a  dark  tempestuous  night.  When 

meet  with,   and  to  recognise,  the  thrown  on  her  beam-ends,  my  friend 

Master  of  a  vessel  in  which  I  had  had  been  washed  overboard,  and  in 

sailed  in  the  Mediterranean.     Our  his  struggles  to  keep  himself  above 

recognition  of  each  other  seemed  to  water  had  got  hold  of  a  piece  of  ice, 

give    mutual    satisfaction,   as    the  on  the  top  of  which  he  at  length 

cordial  grasp  of  the  seaman's  hard  succeeded  in  raising  himself — '  and 


1826.] 


JOURNAL. 


211 


after  tea,  and  we  talked  business.  Then  I  was  lazy  and 
stupid,  and  dosed  over  a  book  instead  of  writing.  So  on  the 
whole,  Confiteor,  confiteor,  culpa  mea,  culpa  mea  ! 

June  1 4. — In  the  morning  I  began  with  a  page  and  a  half 
before  breakfast.     This  is  always  the  best  way.     You  stand 

there  I  was,  sir,  on  a  cursed  dark 
dirty  night,  squatted  on  a  round 
lump  of  floating  ice,  for  all  the 
world  like  a  tea-table  adrift  in  the 
middle  of  a  stormy  sea,  without 
being  able  to  see  whether  there  was 
any  hope  within  sight,  and  having 
enough  ado  to  hold  on,  cold  as  my 
seat  was,  with  sometimes  one  end 
of  me  in  the  water,  and  sometimes 
the  other,  as  the  ill-fashioned  crank 
thing  kept  whirling,  and  whomeling 
about  all  night.  However,  praised 
be  God,  daylight  had  not  been 
long  in,  when  a  boat's  crew  on  the 
outlook  hove  in  sight,  and  taking 
me  for  a  basking  seal,  and  maybe 
I  was  not  unlike  that  same, 
up  they  came  of  themselves,  for 
neither  voice  nor  hand  had  I  to 
signal  them,  and  if  they  lost  their 
blubber,  faith,  sir,  they  did  get  a 
willing  prize  on  board  ;  so,  after  just 
a  little  bit  gliff  of  a  prayer  for  the 
mercy  that  sent  them '  to  my  help, 
I  soon  came  to  myself  again,  and 
now  that  I  am  landed  safe  and 
sound,  I  am  walking  about,  ye  see, 
like  a  gentleman,  till  I  get  some 
new  craft  to  try  the  trade  again.' — 
Sir  Walter,  who  was  leaning  on  my 
arm  during  this  narrative,  had  not 
taken  any  share  in  the  dialogue,  and 
kept  gazing  to  seaward,  with  his 
usual  heavy,  absorbed  expression, 
and  only  joined  in  wishing  the  sea- 
man better  success  in  his  next  trip 
as  we  parted.  However,  the  detail 
had  by  no  means  escaped  his  notice, 
but  dropping  into  the  fertile  soil  of 
his  mind,  speedily  yielded  fruit, 
quite  characteristic  of  his  habits. 
We  happened  that  evening  to  dine 


in  company  together ;  I  was  not  near 
Sir  Walter  at  table,  but  in  the 
course  of  the  evening  my  attention 
was  called  to  listen  to  a  narrative 
with  which  he  was  entertaining 
those  around  him,  and  he  seemed 
as  usual  to  have  excited  the  eager 
interest  of  his  hearers.  The  com- 
mencement of  the  story  I  had  not 
heard,  but  soon  perceived  that  a 
shipwreck  was  the  theme,  which 
he  described  with  all  the  vivid 
touches  of  his  fancy,  marshalling 
the  incidents  and  striking  features 
of  the  situation  with  a  degree  of 
dexterity  that  seemed  to  bring  all 
the  horrors  of  a  polar  storm  home 
to  every  one's  mind,  and  although  it 
occurred  to  me  that  our  rencontre 
in  the  morning  with  the  shipwrecked 
Whaler  might  have  recalled  a  simi- 
lar story  to  his  recollection,  it  was 
not  until  he  came  to  mention  the  tea- 
table  of  ice  that  I  recognised  the 
identity  of  my  friend's  tale,  which 
had  luxuriated  to  such  an  extent  in 
the  fertile  soil  of  the  poet's  imagina- 
tion, as  to  have  left  the  original 
germ  in  comparative  insignificance. 
He  cast  a  glance  towards  me  at  the 
close,  and  observed,  with  a  signifi- 
cant nod,  'You  see,  you  did  not  hear 
one-half  of  that  honest  seaman's 
story  this  morning.'  It  was  such 
slender  hints,  which  in  the  common 
intercourse  of  life  must  have  hourly 
dropped  on  the  soil  of  his  retentive 
memory,  that  fed  the  exuberance  of 
Sir  Walter's  invention,  and  supplied 
the  seemingly  inexhaustible  stream 
of  fancy,  from  which  he  drew  forth 
at  pleasure  the  ground-work  of 
romance.' ' — Reminiscences. 


212  JOUENAL.  [JUNE 

like  a  child  going  to  be  bathed,  shivering  and  shaking  till 
the  first  pitcherful  is  flung  about  your  ears,  and  then  are  as 
blithe  as  a  water-wagtail.  I  am  just  come  home  from  Par- 
liament House ;  and  now,  my  friend  Nap.,  have  at  you  with 
a  down-right  blow !  Methinks  I  would  fain  make  peace  with 
my  conscience  by  doing  six  pages  to-night.  Bought  a  little 
bit  of  Gruyere  cheese,  instead  of  our  domestic  choke-dog  con- 
cern. When  did  I  ever  purchase  anything  for  my  own  eating  ? 
But  I  will  say  no  more  of  that.  And  now  to  the  bread-mill. 

June  15. — I  laboured  all  the  evening,  but  made  little 
way.  There  were  many  books  to  consult;  and  so  all  I 
could  really  do  was  to  make  out  my  task  of  three  pages. 
I  will  try  to  make  up  the  deficit  of  Tuesday  to-day  and 
to-morrow.  Letters  from  Walter — all  well.  A  visit 
yesterday  from  Charles  Sharpe. 

June  16. — Yesterday  sate  in  the  Court  till  nearly  four. 
I  had,  of  course,  only  time  for  my  task.  I  fear  I  will 
have  little  more  to-day,  for  I  have  accepted  to  dine  at 
Hector's.  I  got,  yesterday,  a  present  of  two  engravings 
from  Sir  Henry  Kaeburn's  portrait  of  me,  which  (poor 
fellow !)  was  the  last  he  ever  painted,  and  certainly  not  his 
worst.1  I  had  the  pleasure  to  give  one  to  young  Mr. 
Davidoff  for  his  uncle,  the  celebrated  Black  Captain  of 
the  campaign  of  1812.  Curious  that  he  should  be 
interested  in  getting  the  resemblance  of  a  person  whose 
mode  of  attaining  some  distinction  has  been  very  different. 
But  I  am  sensible,  that  if  there  be  anything  good  about  my 

1  Painted  for  Lord  Montagu  in  Hirsel,  Coldstream.  The  engrav- 

1822. — See  Life,  vol.  vii.  p.  13.  ing  referred  to  was  made  from  the 

Raeburn  apparently  executed  two  replica,  which  remained  in  the 

"half  lengths"  of  Scott  almost  artist's  possession,  by  Mr.  Walker, 

identical  at  this  time,  giving  Lord  and  published  in  1826.  Sir  Henry 

Montagu  his  choice.  The  picture  Raeburn  died  in  July  1823,  and  I 

chosen  remained  at  Ditton,  near  do  not  know  what  became  of  the 

Windsor,  until  1845,  when  at  Lord  original,  which  may  be  identified  by 

Montagu's  death  it  became  the  an  official  chain  round  the  neck, 

property  of  his  son-in-law,  the  Earl  not  introduced  in  the  Montagu 

of  Home,  and  it  is  now  (1889)  at  the  picture. 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  213 

poetry  or  prose  either,  it  is  a  hurried  frankness  of  com- 
position which  pleases  soldiers,  sailors,  and  young  people 
of  bold  and  active  disposition.  I  have  been  no  sigher  in 
shades — no  writer  of 

"  Songs  and  sonnets  and  rustical  roundelays, 
Framed  on  fancies,  and  whistled  on  reeds." J 

[Abbotsford,  Saturday^  June  1 7. — Left  Edinburgh  to-day 
after  Parliament  House  to  come  [here].  My  two  girls  met 
me  at  Torsonce,  which  was  a  pleasant  surprise,  and  we  re- 
turned in  the  sociable  all  together.  Found  everything  right 
and  well  at  Abbotsford  under  the  new  regime.  I  again 
took  possession  of  the  family  bedroom  and  my  widowed 
couch.  This  was  a  sore  trial,  but  it  was  necessary  not  to 
blink  such  a  resolution.  Indeed,  I  do  not  like  to  have  it 
thought  that  there  is  any  way  in  which  I  can  be  beaten.2 

June  18. — This  morning  wrote  till  half-twelve — good 
day's  work — at  Canongate  Chronicles.  Methinks  I  can 
make  this  work  answer.  Then  drove  to  Huntly  Burn  and 
called  at  Chiefswood.  Walked  home.  The  country  crying 
for  rain ;  yet  on  the  whole  the  weather  delicious,  dry,  and 
warm,  with  a  fine  air  of  wind.  The  young  woods  are  rising 
in  a  kind  of  profusion  I  never  saw  elsewhere.  Let  me  once 
clear  off  these  encumbrances,  and  they  shall  wave  broader 
and  deeper  yet.  But  to  attain  this  I  must  work. 

"Wrought  very  fair  accordingly  till  two ;  then  walked ; 
after  dinner  out  again  with  the  girls.  Smoked  two  cigars, 
first  time  these  two  months. 

June  19. — Wrought  very  fair  indeed,  and  the  day  being 
scorching  we  dined  ol  fresco  in  the  hall  among  the  armour, 
and  went  out  early  in  the  evening.  Walked  to  the  lake 

1  Song  of   The    Hunting  of   the  says  Mrs.  More,  "  that  she  prayed 
Hare. — J.  G.  L.  with  great  composure,   then  went 

2  This    entry     reminds    one    of  and  kissed  the  dear  bed,  and  got 
Hannah    More's   account  of    Mrs.  into  it  with  a  sad  pleasure." — See 
Garrick's   conduct  after    her  hus-  Memoirs  of  Mrs.  More,   vol.  i.   p. 
band's  funeral.      "  She  told   me,"  135. — J.  G.  L. 


214  JOUENAL.  [JUNE 

and  back  again  by  the  Marie  pool;  very  delightful 
evening. 

June  20. — This  is  also  a  hard-working  day.  Hot 
weather  is  favourable  for  application,  were  it  not  that  it 
makes  the  composer  sleepy.  Pray  God  the  reader  may 
not  partake  the  sensation !  But  days  of  hard  work  make 
short  journals.  To-day  we  again  dine  in  the  hall,  and  drive 
to  Ashestiel  in  the  evening  -pour  prendre  le  frais. 

June  21 — We  followed  the  same  course  we  proposed. 
For  a  party  of  pleasure  I  have  attended  to  business  well. 
Twenty  pages  of  Croftangry,  five  printed  pages  each,  attest 
my  diligence,  and  I  have  had  a  delightful  variation  by 
the  company  of  the  two  Annes.  Eegulated  my  little 
expenses  here. 

[Edinburgh^  June  22. — Eeturned  to  my  Patmos.  Heard 
good  news  from  Lockhart.  Wife  well,  and  John  Hugh 
better.  He  mentions  poor  Southey  testifying  much  interest 
for  me,  even  to  tears.  It  is  odd — am  I  so  hard-hearted  a 
man  ?  I  could  not  have  wept  for  him,  though  in  distress  I 
would  have  gone  any  length  to  serve  him.  I  sometimes 
think  I  do  not  deserve  people's  good  opinion,  for  certainly 
my  feelings  are  rather  guided  by  reflection  than  impulse. 
But  everybody  has  his  own  mode  of  expressing  interest, 
and  mine  is  stoical  even  in  bitterest  grief.  Agere  atgue  pati 
Romanum,  est.  I  hope  I  am  not  the  worse  for  wanting  the 
tenderness  that  I  see  others  possess,  and  which  is  so  amiable. 
I  think  it  does  not  cool  my  wish  to  be  of  use  where  I  can. 
But  the  truth  is,  I  am  better  at  enduring  or  acting  than 
at  consoling.  From  childhood's  earliest  hour  my  heart 
rebelled  against  the  influence  of  external  circumstances 
in  myself  and  others.  Non  est  tanti  ! 

To-day  I  was  detained  in  the  Court  from  half-past  ten 
till  near  four ;  yet  I  finished  and  sent  off  a  packet  to  Cadell, 
which  will  finish  one- third  of  the  Chronicles,  vol.  1st. 

Henry  Scott  came   in   while  I  was  at  dinner,  and  sat 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  215 

while  I  ate  my  beef-steak.  A  gourmand  would  think  me 
much  at  a  loss,  coming  back  to  my  ploughman's  meal  of 
boiled  beef  and  Scotch  broth,  from  the  rather  recherche"  table 
at  Abbotsford,  but  I  have  no  philosophy  in  my  carelessness 
on  that  score.  It  is  natural — though  I  am  no  ascetic,  as 
my  father  was. 

June  23. — The  heat  tremendous,  and  the  drought 
threatening  the  hay  and  barley  crop.  Got  from  the  Court 
at  half-twelve,  and  walked  to  the  extremity  of  Heriot  Kow 
to  see  poor  Lady  Don ;  left  my  card  as  she  does  not  re- 
ceive any  one.  I  am  glad  this  painful  meeting  is  adjourned. 
I  received  to-day  £10  from  Black  wood  for  the  article  on 
The  Omen.  Time  was  I  would  not  have  taken  these  small 
tithes  of  mint  and  cummin,  but  scornful  dogs  will  eat  dirty 
puddings,  and  I,  with  many  depending  on  me,  must  do  the 
best  I  can  with  my  time — God  help  me  ! 

[Blair-Adam,'}  June  24. — Left  Edinburgh  yesterday  after 
the  Court,  half-past  twelve,  and  came  over  here  with  the  Lord 
Chief-Baron  and  William  Clerk,  to  spend  as  usual  a  day  or 
two  at  Blair- Adam.  In  general,  this  is  a  very  gay  affair. 
We  hire  a  light  coach-and-four,  and  scour  the  country  in 
every  direction  in  quest  of  objects  of  curiosity.  But  the 
Lord  Chief-Commissioner's  family  misfortunes  and  my  own 
make  our  holiday  this  year  of  a  more  quiet  description  than 
usual,  and  a  sensible  degree  of  melancholy  hangs  on  the 
reunion  of  our  party.  It  was  wise,  however,  not  to  omit 
it,  for  to  slacken  your  hold  on  life  in  any  agreeable  point 
of  connection  is  the  sooner  to  reduce  yourself  to  the  in- 
difference and  passive  vegetation  of  old  age. 

June  25. — Another  melting  day ;  thermometer  at  78° 
even  here.  80°  was  the  height  yesterday  at  Edinburgh. 
If  we  attempt  any  active  proceeding  we  dissolve  ourselves 
into  a  dew.  We  have  lounged  away  the  morning  creeping 
about  the  place,  sitting  a  great  deal,  and  walking  as  little  as 
might  be  on  account  of  the  heat. 


216  JOUKNAL.  [JUNE 

Blair- Adain  has  been  successively  in  possession  of  three 
generations  of  persons  attached  to  and  skilled  in  the  art  of 
embellishment,  and  may  be  fairly  taken  as  a  place  where 
art  and  taste  have  done  a  great  deal  to  improve  nature. 
A  long  ridge  of  varied  ground  sloping  to  the  foot  of 
the  hill  called  Benarty,  and  which  originally  was  of  a 
bare,  mossy,  boggy  character,  has  been  clothed  by  the  son, 
father,  and  grandfather  ;  while  the  undulations  and  hollows, 
which  seventy  or  eighty  years  since  must  have  looked  only 
like  wrinkles  in  the  black  morasses,  being  now  drained  and 
limed,  are  skirted  with  deep  woods,  particularly  of  spruce, 
which  thrives  wonderfully,  and  covered  with  excellent  grass. 
We  drove  in  the  droskie  and  walked  in  the  evening. 

June,  26. — Another  day  of  unmitigated  heat;  thermo- 
meter 82  ;  must  be  higher  in  Edinburgh,  where  I  return 
to-night,  when  the  decline  of  the  sun  makes  travelling 
practicable.  It  will  be  well  for  my  work  to  be  there — 
not  quite  so  well  for  me ;  there  is  a  difference  between  the 
clean,  nice  arrangement  of  Blair- Adam  and  Mrs.  Brown's 
accommodations,  though  he  who  is  insured  against  worse  has 
no  right  to  complain  of  them.  But  the  studious  neatness 
of  poor  Charlotte  has  perhaps  made  me  fastidious.  She  loved 
to  see  things  clean,  even  to  Oriental  scrupulosity.  So  oddly 
do  our  deep  recollections  of  other  kinds  correspond  with  the 
most  petty  occurrences  of  our  life. 

Lord  Chief- Baron  told  us  a  story  of  the  ruling  passion 
strong  in  death.  A  Master  in  Chancery  was  on  his  death- 
bed— a  very  wealthy  man.  Some  occasion  of  great  urgency 
occurred  in  which  it  was  necessary  to  make  an  affidavit, 
and  the  attorney,  missing  one  or  two  other  Masters,  whom 

he  inquired  after,  ventured  to  ask  if  Mr. would  be 

able  to  receive  the  deposition.  The  proposal  seemed  to  give 
him  momentary  strength ;  his  clerk  sent  for,  and  the  oath 
taken  in  due  form,  the  Master  was  lifted  up  in  bed,  and 
with  difficulty  subscribed  the  paper ;  as  he  sank  down  again, 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  217 

lie  made  a  signal  to  his  clerk — "  Wallace." — "  Sir  ? " — "  Your 
ear — lower — lower.  Have  you  got  the  half-crown  1"  He 
was  dead  before  morning. 

[Edinburgh^  June  27. — Returned  to  Edinburgh  late  last 
night,  and  had  a  most  sweltering  night  of  it.  This  day  also 
cruel  hot.  However,  I  made  a  task  or  nearly  so,  and  read 
a  good  deal  about  the  Egyptian  Expedition.  Had  comfort- 
able accounts  of  Anne,  and  through  her  of  Sophia.  Dr. 
Shaw  doubts  if  anything  is  actually  the  matter  with  poor 
Johnnie's  back.  I  hope  the  dear  child  will  escape  deformity, 
and  the  infirmities  attending  that  helpless  state.  I  have 
myself  been  able  to  fight  up  very  well,  notwithstanding  my 
lameness,  but  it  has  cost  great  efforts,  and  I  am  besides  very 
strong.  Dined  with  Colin  Mackenzie ;  a  fine  family  all 
growing  up  about  him,  turning  men  and  women,  and 
treading  fast  on  our  heels.  Some  thunder  and  showers 
which  I  fear  will  be  but  partial.  Hot — hot — hot. 

June  28. — Another  hot  morning,  and  something  like  an 
idle  day,  though  I  have  read  a  good  deal.  But  I  have  slept 
also,  corrected  proofs,  and  prepared  for  a  great  start,  by 
filling  myself  with  facts  and  ideas. 

June  29. — I  walked  out  for  an  hour  last  night,  and  made 
one  or  two  calls — the  evening  was  delightful — 

"  Day  its  sultry  fires  had  wasted, 

Calm  and  cool  the  moonbeam  rose ; 
Even  a  captive's  bosom  tasted 
Half  oblivion  of  his  woes."  1 

I  wonder  often  how  Tom  Campbell,  with  so  much  real 
genius,  has  not  maintained  a  greater  figure  in  the  public 
eye  than  he  has  done  of  late.  The  Magazine  seems  to  have 
paralysed  him.  The  author,  not  only  of  the  Pleasures  of 
Hope,  but  of  Hohenlinden,  Lochiel,  etc.,  should  have  been  at 
the  very  top  of  the  tree.  Somehow  he  wants  audacity,  fears 

1    Campbell's       Turkish      Lady     Magazine,  but  he  soon  gave  it  up. 
slightly    altered.      The    poet    was      — J.O.L. 
then  editor  of    the   New  Montlily 


218  JOUKNAL.  [JUNE 

the  public,  and,  what  is  worse,  fears  the  shadow  of  his  own 
reputation.  He  is  a  great  corrector  too,  which  succeeds  as 
ill  in  composition  as  in  education.  Many  a  clever  boy  is 
flogged  into  a  dunce,  and  many  an  original  composition  cor- 
rected into  mediocrity.  Yet  Tom  Campbell  ought  to  have 
done  a  great  deal  more.  His  youthful  promise  was  great. 
John  Leyden  introduced  me  to  him.  They  afterwards  quar- 
relled. When  I  repeated  Hohenlinden  to  Leyden,  he  said, 
"  Dash  it,  man,  tell  the  fellow  that  I  hate  him,  but,  dash 
him,  he  has  written  the  finest  verses  that  have  been  pub- 
lished these  fifty  years."  I  did  mine  errand  as  faithfully 
as  one  of  Homer's  messengers,  and  had  for  answer,  "Tell 
Leyden  that  I  detest  him,  but  I  know  the  value  of  his 
critical  approbation."  This  feud  was  therefore  in  the  way 
of  being  taken  up.  "  When  Leyden  comes  back  from  India," 
said  Tom  Campbell,  "  what  cannibals  he  will  have  eaten 
and  what  tigers  he  will  have  torn  to  pieces !" 

Gave  a  poor  poetess  £1.  Gibson  writes  me  that  £2300 
is  offered  for  the  poor  house ;  it  is  worth  £300  more,  but  I 
will  not  oppose  my  own  opinion,  or  convenience  to  good  and 
well-meant  counsel:  so  farewell,  poor  No.  39.  What  a 
portion  of  my  life  has  been  spent  there !  It  has  sheltered 
me  from  the  prime  of  life  to  its  decline ;  and  now  I  must 
bid  good-bye  to  it.  I  have  bid  good-bye  to  my  poor  wife, 
so  long  its  courteous  and  kind  mistress, — and  I  need  not 
care  about  the  empty  rooms ;  yet  it  gives  me  a  turn.  I  have 
been  so  long  a  citizen  of  Edinburgh,  now  an  indweller  only. 
Never  mind ;  all  in  the  day's  work. 

J.  Ballantyne  and  R  Cadell  dined  with  me,  and,  as  Pepys 
would  say,  all  was  very  handsome.  Drank  amongst  us  one 
bottle  of  champagne,  one  of  claret,  a  glass  or  two  of  port, 
and  each  a  tumbler  of  whisky  toddy.  J.  B.  had  courage  to 
drink  his  with  hot  water ;  mine  was  iced. 

June  30. — Here  is  another  dreadful  warm  day,  fit  for 
nobody  but  the  flies.  And  then  one  is  confined  to  town. 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  219 

Yesterday  I  agreed  to  let  Cadell  have  the  new  work,1 
edition  1500,  he  paying  all  charges,  and  paying  also  £500 — 
two  hundred  and  fifty  at  Lammas,  to  pay  J.  Gibson  money 
advanced  on  the  passage  of  young  Walter,  my  nephew,  to 
India.  It  is  like  a  thorn  in  one's  eye  this  sort  of  debt,  and 
Gibson  is  young  in  business,  and  somewhat  involved  in  my 
affairs  besides.  Our  plan  is,  that  this  same  Miscellany  or 
Chronicle  shall  be  committed  quietly  to  the  public,  and  we 
hope  it  will  attract  attention.  If  it  does  not,  we  must  turn 
public  attention  to  it  ourselves.  About  one  half  of  vol.  i.  is 
written,  and  there  is  worse  abomination,  or  I  mistake  the 
matter. 

I  was  detained  in  Court  till  four ;  dreadfully  close,  and 
obliged  to  drink  water  for  refreshment,  which  formerly  I 
used  to  scorn,  even  on  the  moors,  with  a  burning  August 
sun,  the  heat  of  exercise,  and  a  hundred  springs  gushing 
around  me. 

Corrected  proofs,  etc.,  on  my  return.  I  think  I  have 
conquered  the  trustees'  objections  to  carry  on  the  small 
edition  of  novels.  Got  Cadell's  letter  about  the  Chronicle. 

1  Viz. :  the  first  series  of  Chro-  by  the  author  of  Waverley,  Tales  of 

nicies  of  the  Canongate,  which  was  the  Crtisaders,  etc.  "He  was  a  very 

published  in  1827.  The  title  ori-  perfect  gentle  knight"  (Chaucer), 

ginally  proposed  was  The  Canon-  Edinburgh  :  Printed  for  Archibald 

gate  Miscellany  or  Traditions  of  the  Constable  and  Co.,  Edinburgh  ; 

Sanctuary.  and  Longman,  Rees,  Orme,  Brown, 

Woodstock  had  just  been  launched  and  Green,  London,  1826.  (At  the 

under  the  following  title  : —  Wood-  end)  Edinburgh  :  Printed  by  James 

stock,  or  the  Cavalier ;  a  Tale  of  the  Ballantyne  and  Co.  3  vols.  post 

Year  Sixteen  Hundred  and  Fifty -one,  8  vo. 


JULY. 

[Edinburgh,]  July  1st.  —  Another  sunny  day.  This 
threatens  absolutely  Syrian  drought.  As  the  Selkirk  election 
comes  on  Monday,  I  go  out  to-day  to  Abbotsford,  and  carry 
young  Davidoff  and  his  tutor  with  me,  to  see  our  quiet  way 
of  managing  the  choice  of  a  national  representative. 

I  wrote  a  page  or  two  last  night  slumbrously. 

[Abbotsford,]  July  2. — Late  at  Court.  Got  to  Abbotsford 
last  night  with  Count  Davidoff  about  eight  o'clock.  I  worked 
a  little  this  morning,  then  had  a  long  and  warm  walk. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hamilton  from  Chiefswood,  the  present  in- 
habitants of  Lockhart's  cottage,  dined  with  us,  which  made 
the  society  pleasant.  He  is  a  fine,  soldierly-looking  man 1 — 
though  affected  with  paralysis — his  wife  a  sweet  good- 
humoured  little  woman.  He  is  supposed  to  be  a  writer  in 
Blackwood's  Magazine.  Since  we  were  to  lose  the  Lockharts, 
we  could  scarce  have  had  more  agreeable  folks. 

At  Selkirk,  where  Borthwickbrae  was  elected  with  the 
usual  unanimity  of  the  Forest  freeholders.  This  was  a  sight 
to  my  young  Muscovite.  We  walked  in  the  evening  to  the 
lake. 

July  5. — Still  very  hot,  but  with  thunder  showers. 
Wrote  till  breakfast,  then  walked  and  signed  the  death- 
warrant  of  a  number  of  old  firs  at  Abbotstown.  I  hope 
their  deaths  will  prove  useful.  Their  lives  are  certainly  not 
ornamental.  Young  Mr.  Davidoff  entered  upon  the  cause 
of  the  late  discontents  in  Eussia,  which  he  imputes  to  a 

1  Thomas   Hamilton,  Esq.    (bro-  Thornton,    Men    and    Manners    in 

ther  of  Sir  William  Hamilton,  the  America,  Annals  of  the  Peninsular 

Metaphysician),    author    of    Cyril  Campaign,  etc.     Died  in  1842. 

220 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  221 

deep-seated  Jacobin  conspiracy  to  overthrow  the  state  and 
empire  and  establish  a  government  by  consuls. 

[Edinburgh,]  July  6. — Eeturned  last  night  with  my 
frozen  Muscovites  to  the  Capital,  and  suffered  as  usual  from 
the  incursions  of  the  black  horse  during  the  night.  It  was 
absolute  fever.  A  bunch  of  letters,  but  little  interesting. 
Mr.  Barry  Cornwall1  writes  to  condole  with  me.  I  think 
our  acquaintance  scarce  warranted  this  ;  but  it  is  well  meant 
and  modestly  done.  I  cannot  conceive  the  idea  of  forcing 
myself  on  strangers  in  distress,  and  I  have  half  a  mind  to 
turn  sharp  round  on  some  of  my  consolers.  Came  home 
from  Court.  R.  P.  Gillies  called;  he  is  writing  a  satire. 
He  has  a  singular  talent  of  aping  the  measure  and  tone  of 
Byron,  and  this  poem  goes  to  the  tune  of  Don  Juan,  but  it 
is  the  Champagne  after  it  has  stood  two  days  with  the  cork 
drawn.  Thereafter  came  Charles  K.  Sharpe  and  Will  Clerk, 
as  Eobinson  sayeth,  to  my  exceeding  refreshment.2  And  last, 
not  least,  Mr.  Jollie,  one  of  the  triumvirs  who  manage  my 
poor  matters.  He  consents  to  going  on  with  the  small 
edition  of  novels,  which  he  did  not  before  comprehend.  All 
this  has  consumed  the  day,  but  we  will  make  up  tide-way 
presently.  I  must  dress  to  go  to  Lord  Medwyn  3  to  dinner, 
and  it  is  near  time. 

July  7. — Coming  home  from  Lord  Medwyn's  last  night 
I  fell  in  with  Willie  Clerk,  and  went  home  to  drink  a  little 
shrub  and  water,  over  which  we  chatted  of  old  stories  until 
half-past  eleven.  This  morning  I  corrected  two  proofs  of 
C[roftangr]y,  which  is  getting  on.  But  there  must  be  a  little 
check  with  the  throng  of  business  at  the  close  of  the  session. 
D — n  the  session!  I  wish  it  would  close  its  eyes  for  a 
century.  It  is  too  bad  to  be  kept  broiling  here  ;  but,  on  the 

1  Bryan  Waller  Procter,  author  3  John  Hay  Forbes  (Lord  Med- 

of  Dramatic  Scenes,  and  other  Poems,  wyn  from  1825  to  1852),  second  son 

1819.  He  died  in  London  in  1874.  of  Sir  William  Forbes  of  Pitsligo. 

8  A  favourite  expression  of  Scott's,  Lord  Medwyn  died  at  the  age  of 

from  Robinson  Crusoe.  seventy-eight  in  1854. 


222  JOUENAL.  [JULY 

other  hand,  we  must  have  the  instinctive  gratitude  of  the 
Laird  of  M'Intosh,  who  was  for  the  King  that  gave  M'Intosh 
half-a-guinea  the  day  and  half-a-guinea  the  morn.  So  I 
retract  my  malediction. 

Eeceived  from  Blackwood  to  account  sales  of  Malachi 
£72  with  some  odd  shillings.  This  was  for  copies  sold  to 
Banks.  The  cash  comes  far  from  ill-timed,  having  to  clear 
all  odds  and  ends  before  I  leave  Edinburgh.  This  will  carry 
me  on  tidily  till  25th,  when  precepts  become  payable. 
Well !  if  Malachi  did  me  some  mischief,  he  must  also  con- 
tribute guodam  modo  to  my  comfort. 

July  8. — Wrote  a  good  task  this  morning.  I  may  be 
mistaken ;  but  I  do  think  the  tale  of  Elspat  McTavish l  in 
my  bettermost  manner — but  J.  B.  roars  for  chivalry.  He 
does  not  quite  understand  that  everything  may  be  overdone 
in  this  world,  or  sufficiently  estimate  the  necessity  of  novelty. 
The  Highlanders  have  been  off  the  field  now  for  some  time, 

Returning  from  Court,  looked  into  a  show  of  wild  beasts, 
and  saw  Nero  the  great  lion,  whom  they  had  the  cruelty  to 
bait  with  bull-dogs,  against  whom  the  noble  creature  dis- 
dained to  exert  his  strength.  He  was  lying  like  a  prince  in 
a  large  cage,  where  you  might  be  admitted  if  you  wish.  I 
had  a  month's  mind — but  was  afraid  of  the  newspapers; 
I  could  be  afraid  of  nothing  else,  for  never  did  a  creature 
seem  more  gentle  and  yet  majestic — I  longed  to  caress 
him.  Wallace,  the  other  lion,  born  in  Scotland,  seemed 
much  less  trustworthy.  He  handled  the  dogs  as  his  name- 
sake did  the  southron. 

Enter  a  confounded  Dousterswivel,  called  Burschal,  or 
some  such  name,  patronised  by  John  Lockhart,  teacher  of 
German  and  learner  of  English. 

He  opened  the  trenches  by  making  me  a  present  of  a 
German  work  called  Der  Bibelische  Orient,  then  began  to 
talk  of  literature  at  large ;  and  display  his  own  pretensions. 
Asked  my  opinion  of  Gray  as  a  poet,  and  wished  me  to 

1  The,  Highland  Widow. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  223 

subscribe  an  attestation  of  his  own  merits  for  the  purpose  of 
getting  him  scholars.  As  I  hinted  my  want  of  acquaintance 
with  his  qualifications,  I  found  I  had  nearly  landed  myself 
in  a  proof,  for  he  was  girding  up  his  loins  to  repeated 
thundering  translations  by  himself  into  German,  Hebrew, 
until,  thinking  it  superfluous  to  stand  on  very  much  cere- 
mony with  one  who  used  so  little  with  me,  hinted  at  letters 
to  write,  and  got  him  to  translate  himself  elsewhere. 

Saw  a  good  house  in  Brunswick  Street,  which  I  liked. 
This  evening  supped  with  Thomas  Thomson  about  the  affairs 
of  the  Baunatyne.  There  was  the  Dean,  Will  Clerk,  John 
Thomson,  young  Smythe  of  Methven ;  very  pleasant. 

July  9. — Eather  slumbrous  to-day  from  having  sat  up 
till  twelve  last  night.  We  settled,  or  seemed  to  settle,  on 
an  election  for  the  Bannatyne  Club.  There  are  people  who 
would  wish  to  confine  it  much  to  one  party.  But  those 
who  were  together  last  night  saw  it  in  the  true  and  liberal 
point  of  view,  as  a  great  national  institution,  which  may  do 
much  good  in  the  way  of  publishing  our  old  records,  pro- 
viding we  do  not  fall  into  the  usual  habit  of  antiquarians, 
and  neglect  what  is  useful  for  things  that  are  merely  curious. 
Thomson  is  a  host  for  such  an  undertaking.  I  wrote  a 
good  day's  work  at  the  Canongate  matter,  notwithstanding 
the  intervention  of  two  naps.  I  get  sleepy  oftener  than  usual. 
It  is  the  weather  I  suppose — Nabodish  !l  I  am  near  the  end 
of  the  first  volume,  and  every  step  is  one  out  of  difficulty. 

July  10. — Slept  too  long  this  morning.  It  was  eight 
before  I  rose — half-past  eight  ere  I  came  into  the  parlour. 
Terry  and  J.  Ballantyne  dined  with  me  yesterday,  and  I 
suppose  the  wassail,  though  there  was  little  enough  of  it, 
had  stuck  to  my  pillow. 

1  A  favourite  exclamation  of  Sir  head  was  cut  off  aud  placed  upon 

Walter's,  which  he  had  picked  up  on  a  table:   "  '  Quis  separabit?'  says 

his  Irish  tour,  signifying   "don't  the  head;   ' Nabodish, '  says  I,  in 

mind  it" — Na-bac-leis.      Compare  the  same  language. " 
Sir  Boyle  Roche's  dream  that  his 


224  JOUKNAL.  [JULY 

This  morning  I  was  visited  by  a  Mr.  Lewis,  a  smart 
Cockney,  whose  object  is  to  amend  the  handwriting.  He 
uses  as  a  mechanical  aid  a  sort  of  puzzle  of  wire  and  ivory, 
which  is  put  upon  the  fingers  to  keep  them  in  the  desired 
position,  like  the  muzzle  on  a  dog's  nose  to  make  him  bear 
himself  right  in  the  field.  It  is  ingenious,  and  may  be  use- 
ful. If  the  man  comes  here,  as  he  proposes,  in  winter,  I 
will  take  lessons.  Bear  witness,  good  reader,  that  if  W.  S. 
writes  a  cramp  hand,  as  is  the  case,  he  is  desirous  to  mend  it. 

Dined  with  John  Swinton  en  famille.  He  told  me  an 
odd  circumstance.  Coming  from  Berwickshire  in  the  mail 
coach  he  met  with  a  passenger  who  seemed  more  like  a 
military  man  than  anything  else.  They  talked  on  all  sorts 
of  subjects,  at  length  on  politics.  Malachi's  letters  were 
mentioned,  when  the  stranger  observed  they  were  much 
more  seditious  than  some  expressions  for  which  he  had 
three  or  four  years  ago  been  nearly  sent  to  Botany  Bay. 
And  perceiving  John  Swinton  surprised  at  this  avowal,  he 
added,  "  I  am  Kinloch  of  Kinloch."  This  gentleman  had  got 
engaged  in  the  radical  business  (the  only  real  gentleman 
by  the  way  who  did),  and  harangued  the  weavers  of  Dundee 
with  such  emphasis  that  he  would  have  been  tried  and  sent 
to  Botany  Bay  had  he  not  fled  abroad.  He  was  outlawed,  and 
only  restored  to  his  status  on  a  composition  with  Government. 
It  seems  to  have  escaped  Mr.  Kinloch  that  the  conduct  of  a 
man  who  places  a  lighted  coal  in  the  middle  of  combustibles, 
and  upon  the  floor,  is  a  little  different  from  that  of  one  who 
places  the  same  quantity  of  burning  fuel  in  a  fire-grate ! x 

July  11. — The  last  day  of  the  session,  and  as  toilsome  a 
one  as  I  ever  saw.  There  were  about  100  or  120  cases  on 

1  That    Mr.     Kinloch    was    not  Bay    before    him,    and    money  to 

singular  in  his   opinion  has  been  make  himself  comfortable  in  Paris, 

shown  by  the  remarks  made  in  the  George  Kinloch  would  have  been 

House  of  Commons  (see  ante,  March  an  idiot  if  he  had  stayed."     Mr. 

17).     Lord  Cockburn  in  his  Trials  Kinloch  had  just  returned  to  Scot- 

for  Sedition  says,    "  With   Botany  land. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  225 

the  roll,  and  most  of  them  of  an  incidental  character,  which 
gives  us  Clerks  the  greatest  trouble,  for  it  is  the  grasshopper 
that  is  a  burthen  to  us.  Came  home  about  four,  tired  and 
hungry.  I  wrought  little  or  none ;  indeed  I  could  not,  having 
books  and  things  to  pack.  Went  in  the  evening  to  sup  with 
John  Murray,1  where  I  met  Will  Clerk,  Thomson,  Hender- 
land,  and  Charles  Stuart  Blantyre,  and  had  of  course  a  pleasant 
party.  I  came  late  home,  though,  for  me,  and  was  not  in  bed 
till  past  midnight ;  it  would  not  do  for  me  to  do  this  often. 

July  12. — I  have  the  more  reason  to  eschew  evening 
parties  that  I  slept  two  mornings  till  past  eight ;  these  vigils 
would  soon  tell  on  my  utility,  as  the  divines  call  it,  but  this 
is  the  last  day  in  town,  and  the  world  shall  be  amended.  I 
have  been  trying  to  mediate  between  the  unhappy  R.  P. 
G[illies]  and  his  uncle  Lord  G.  The  latter  talks  like  a  man 
of  sense  and  a  good  relation,  and  would,  I  think,  do  some- 
thing for  R.  P.  G.,  if  he  would  renounce  temporary  ex- 
pedients and  bring  his  affairs  to  a  distinct  crisis.  But  this 
R.  P.  will  not  hear  of,  but  flatters  himself  with  ideas  which 
seem  to  me  quite  visionary.  I  could  make  nothing  of  him ; 
but,  I  conclude,  offended  him  by  being  of  his  uncle's  opinion 
rather  than  his,  as  to  the  mode  of  extricating  his  affairs. 

I  am  to  dine  out  to-day,  and  I  would  fain  shirk  and 
stay  at  home ;  never,  Shylock-like,  had  I  less  will  to  feast- 
ing forth,  but  I  must  go  or  be  thought  sulky.  Lord  M.  and 
Lady  Abercromby  called  this  morning,  and  a  world  of 
people  besides,  among  others  honest  Mr.  Wilson,  late  of 
Wilsontown,  who  took  so  much  care  of  me  at  London,  sending 
fresh  eggs  and  all  sorts  of  good  things.  Well,  I  have  dawdled 
and  written  letters  sorely  against  the  grain  all  day.  Also  I 
have  been  down  to  see  Will  Allan's  picture  of  the  Landing 
of  Queen  Mary,  which  he  has  begun  in  a  great  style ;  also  I 
have  put  my  letters  and  papers  to  rights,  which  only  happens 

1  His  neighbour,  John  Archibald  Murray,  then  living  at  122  George 
Street.— See  p.  133. 

P 


226  JOUENAL.  [JULY 

when  I  am  about  to  move,  and  now,  having  nothing  left  to 
do,  I  must  go  and  dress  myself. 

July  13. — Dined  yesterday  with  Lord  Abercromby  at  a 
party  he  gave  to  Lord  Melville  and  some  old  friends,  who 
formed  the  Contemporary  Club.  Lord  M.  and  I  met  with 
considerable  feeling  on  both  sides,  and  all  our  feuds  were 
forgotten  and  forgiven ;  I  conclude  so  at  least,  because  one 
or  two  people,  whom  I  know  to  be  sharp  observers  of  the 
weatherglass  on  occasion  of  such  squalls,  have  been  earnest 
with  me  to  meet  Lord  M.  at  parties — which  I  am  well 
assured  they  would  not  have  been  (had  I  been  Horace  come 
to  life  again1)  were  they  not  sure  the  breeze  was  over.  For 
myself,  I  am  happy  that  our  usual  state  of  friendship  should 
be  restored,  though  I  could  not  have  come  down  proud 
stomach  to  make  advances,  which  is,  among  friends,  always 
the  duty  of  the  richer  and  more  powerful  of  the  two. 

To-day  I  leave  Mrs.  Brown's  lodgings.  Altogether  I 
cannot  complain,  but  the  insects  were  voracious,  even  until 
last  night  when  the  turtle-soup  and  champagne  ought  to  have 
made  me  sleep  like  a  top.  But  I  have  done  a  monstrous 
sight  of  work  here  notwithstanding  the  indolence  of  this  last 
week,  which  must  and  shall  be  amended. 

"  So  good-by,  Mrs.  Brown, 
I  am  going  out  of  town, 
Over  dale,  over  down, 
Where  bugs  bite  not, 
Where  lodgers  fight  not, 
Where  below  you  chairmen  drink  not, 
Where  beside  you  gutters  stink  not ; 
But  all  is  fresh,  and  clean,  and  gay, 
And  merry  lambkins  sport  and  play, 
And  they  toss  with  rakes  uncommonly  short  hay, 
Which  looks  as  if  it  had  been  sown  only  the  other  day, 
And  where  oats  are  at  twenty -five  shillings  a  boll,  they  say, 
But  all's  one  for  that,  since  I  must  and  will  away." 

July   14,  ABBOTSFORD. — Arrived  here  yesterday  before 
five   o'clock.      Anybody  would  think,  from  the   fal-de-ral 
1  See  Moliere's  F&cole  des  Femmes. 


1826.]  JOUBNAL.  227 

conclusion  of  my  journal  of  yesterday,  that  I  left  town  in  a 
very  gay  humour — cujus  contrarium  verum  est.  But  nature 
has  given  me  a  kind  of  buoyancy,  I  know  not  what  to  call 
it,  that  mingles  even  with  my  deepest  afflictions  and  most 
gloomy  hours.  I  have  a  secret  pride — I  fancy  it  will  be  so 
most  truly  termed — which  impels  me  to  mix  with  my  dis- 
tresses strange  snatches  of  mirth  "  which  have  no  mirth  in 
them."  In  fact,  the  journey  hither,  the  absence  of  the 
affectionate  friend  that  used  to  be  my  companion  on  the 
journey,  and  many  mingled  thoughts  of  bitterness,  have 
given  me  a  fit  of  the  bile. 

July  1 5. — This  day  I  did  not  attempt  to  work,  but  spent 
my  time  in  the  morning  in  making  the  necessary  catalogue 
and  distribution  of  two  or  three  chests  of  books  which  I 
have  got  home  from  the  binder,  Niece  Anne  acting  as  my 
Amanuensis.  In  the  evening  we  drove  to  Huntly  Burn,  and 
took  tea  there.  Eeturning  home  we  escaped  a  considerable 
danger.  The  iron  screw  bolts  of  the  driving-seat  suddenly 
giving  way,  the  servants  were  very  nearly  precipitated  upon 
the  backs  of  the  horses.  Had  it  been  down  hill  instead  of 
being  on  the  level,  the  horses  must  have  taken  fright,  and 
the  consequences  might  have  been  fatal.  Indeed,  they  had 
almost  taken  fright  as  it  was,  had  not  Peter  Matheson,1  who, 
in  Mr.  Fag's  phrase,  I  take  to  be,  "  the  discreetest  of  whips,"2 
kept  his  presence  of  mind,  when  losing  his  equilibrium,  so 
that  he  managed  to  keep  the  horses  in  hand  until  we  all  got 
out.  I  must  say  it  is  not  the  first  imminent  danger  on 
which  I  have  seen  Peter  (my  Automedon  for  near  twenty- 
five  years")  behave  with  the  utmost  firmness. 

1  In    1827  Scott  was  one  day  He   died  at  Abbotsford    in    1854, 

heard  saying,  as  he  saw  Peter  guid-  where  he  had  been  well  cared  for, 

ing  the  plough  on  the  haugh : —  respected,  and  beloved  by  all  the 

"  Egad,  auld  Pepe's  whistling  at  his  members  of   the    family  since    Sir 

darg  :  if  things  get  round  with  me,  Walter's  death, 
easy  will  be  his    cushion  ! "     Old 

Peter  lived  until  he  was  eighty-four.  Shendan  s  Rivals,  Act  n.  Sc.  1 . 


228  JOUKNAL.  [JULY 

July  16. — Very  unsatisfactory  to-day.  Sleepy,  stupid, 
indolent — finished  arranging  the  books,  and  after  that  was 
totally  useless — unless  it  can  be  called  study  that  I  slumbered 
for  three  or  four  hours  over  a  variorum  edition  of  the  Gill's- 
Hill's  tragedy.1  Admirable  recipe  for  low  spirits — for,  not 
to  mention  the  brutality  of  so  extraordinary  a  murder,  it  led 
John  Bull  into  one  of  his  uncommon  fits  of  gambols,  until 
at  last  he  become  so  maudlin  as  to  weep  for  the  pitiless 
assassin,  Thurtell,  and  treasure  up  the  leaves  and  twigs  of  the 
hedge  and  shrubs  in  the  fatal  garden  as  valuable  relics — nay, 
thronged  the  minor  theatres  to  see  the  very  roan  horse  and 
yellow  gig  in  which  the  body  was  transported  from  one  place 
to  another.  I  have  not  stept  over  the  threshold  to-day,  so 
very  stupid  have  I  been. 

July  17. — Desidice  longum  valedixi.  Our  time  is  like 
our  money.  When  we  change  a  guinea,  the  shillings  escape 
as  things  of  small  account ;  when  we  break  a  day  by  idleness 
in  the  morning,  the  rest  of  the  hours  lose  their  importance  in 
our  eye.  I  set  stoutly  to  work  about  seven  this  morning  to 

Boney — 

And  long  ere  dinner-time,  I  have 

Full  eight  close  pages  wrote  ; 
What,  Duty,  hast  thou  now  to  crave  ? 

Well  done,  Sir  Walter  Scott ! 

July  18. — This,  as  yesterday,  has  been  a  day  of  unremitting 
labour,  though  I  only  got  through  half  the  quantity  of  manu- 
script, owing  to  drowsiness,  a  most  disarming  annoyance. 
I  walked  a  little  before  dinner  and  after  tea,  but  was  unable 
to  go  with  the  girls  and  Charles  to  the  top  of  Cauldshiels 
Hill.  I  fear  my  walking  powers  are  diminishing,  but  why 
not  ?  They  have  been  wonderfully  long  efficient,  all  things 

1  The    murder    of     Weare    by  admired  particularly  this  verse  of 

Tnurtell  and  Co.,  at  GilPs-Hill  in  Mr.  Hook's  broadside- 
Hertfordshire  (1824).    Sir  Walter 

collected  printed  trials  with  great  "  They  cut  his  throat  from  ear  to  ear. 

His  brains  they  battered  in  ; 

assiduity,  and  took  care  always  to  His  name  was  Mr>  Wiliiam  Weare. 

have  the  contemporary  ballads  and  He  dwelt  in  Lyon's  Inn." 

prints   bound  up  with  them.     He  — J.  G.  L. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  229 

considered,  only  I  fear  I  shall  get  fat  and  fall  into  diseases. 
Well,  things  must  be  as  they  may.  Let  us  use  the  time 
and  faculties  which  God  has  left  us,  and  trust  futurity  to 
his  guidance.  Amen. 

This  is  the  day  of  St.  Boswell's  Fair.  That  watery 
saint  has  for  once  had  a  dry  festival. 

July  19. — Wrote  a  page  this  morning,  but  no  more. 
Corrected  proofs  however,  and  went  to  Selkirk  to  hold 
Sheriff  Court;  this  consumed  the  forenoon.  Colonel  and 
Miss  Ferguson,  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Laidlaw,  dined  and 
occupied  the  evening.  The  rain  seemed  to  set  in  this  night. 

July  20. — To-day  rainy.  A  morning  and  forenoon  of 
hard  work.  About  five  pages,  which  makes  up  for  yester- 
day's lee  way.  I  am  sadly  tired  however.  But  as  I  go  to 
Mertoun  at  four,  and  spend  the  night  there,  the  exertion 
was  necessary. 

July  21. — To  Mertoun  we  went  accordingly.  Lord  and 
Lady  Minto  were  there,  with  part  of  their  family,  David 
Haliburton,  etc.,  besides  their  own  large  family.  So  my 
lodging  was  a  little  room  which  I  had  not  occupied  since  I 
was  a  bachelor,  but  often  before  in  my  frequent  intercourse 
with  this  kind  and  hospitable  family.  Feeling  myself  re- 
turned to  that  celibacy,  which  renders  many  accommodations 
indifferent  which  but  lately  were  indispensable,  my  imagina- 
tion drew  a  melancholy  contrast  between  the  young  man 
entering  the  world  on  fire  for  fame,  and  restless  in  imagining 
means  of  coming  by  it,  and  the  aged  widower,  blase  on  the 
point  of  literary  reputation,  deprived  of  the  social  comforts 
of  a  married  state,  and  looking  back  to  regret  instead  of 
looking  forward  to  hope.  This  brought  bad  sleep  and  un- 
pleasing  dreams.  But  if  I  cannot  hope  to  be  what  I  have 
been,  I  will  not,  if  I  can  help  it,  suffer  vain  repining  to  make 
me  worse  than  I  may  be. 

We  left  Mertoun  after  breakfast,  and  the  two  Annes  and 
I  visited  Lady  Eaeburn  at  Lessudden.  My  Aunt  is  now  in 


230  JOUKNAL.  [JULY 

her  ninetieth  year — so  clean,  so  nice,  so  well  arranged  in 
every  respect,  that  it  makes  old  age  lovely.  She  talks  both 
of  late  and  former  events  with  perfect  possession  of  her 
faculties,  and  has  only  failed  in  her  limbs.  A  great  deal  of 
kind  feeling  has  survived,  in  spite  of  the  frost  of  years. 

Home  to  dinner,  and  worked  all  the  afternoon  among  the 
Moniteurs — to  little  purpose,  for  my  principal  acquisition 
was  a  headache.  I  wrote  nothing  to-day  but  part  of  a  trifle 
for  Blaclffiuood. 

July  22. — The  same  severe  headache  attends  my  poor 
pate.  But  I  have  worked  a  good  deal  this  morning,  and  will 
do  more.  I  wish  to  have  half  the  volume  sent  into  town  on 
Monday  if  possible.  It  will  be  a  royal  effort,  and  more  than 
make  up  for  the  blanks  of  this  week. 

July  23. — I  wrote  very  hard  this  day,  and  attained  page 
40 ;  45  would  be  more  than  half  the  volume.  Colonel  Eussell 
came  about  one,  and  carried  me  out  a-walking,  which  I  was 
all  the  better  of.  In  the  evening  we  expected  Terry  and  his 
wife,  but  they  did  not  come,  which  makes  me  fear  she  may 
be  unwell  again. 

July  24. — A  great  number  of  proof-sheets  to  revise  and 
send  off,  and  after  that  I  took  a  fancy  to  give  a  more  full 
account  of  the  Constitution  framed  by  Sieyes — a  complicated 
and  ingenious  web ;  it  is  but  far  too  fine  and  critical  to  be 
practically  useful. 

July  25. — Terry  and  wife  arrived  yesterday.  Both  very 
well.  At  dinner-time  to-day  came  Dr.  Jamieson 1  of  the 
Scottish  Dictionary,  an  excellent  good  man,  and  full  of  auld 
Scottish  cracks,  which  amuse  me  well  enough,  but  are  caviare 
to  the  young  people.  A  little  prolix  and  heavy  is  the  good 
Doctor ;  somewhat  prosaic,  and  accustomed  to  much  attention 
on  the  Sunday  from  his  congregation,  and  I  hope  on  the  six 

1  Dr.   John  Jamieson,    formerly  he  officiated  for  forty-three  years ; 

minister  to  a  Secession  congrega-  he  died  in  his  house  in  4  George 

tion  in  Forfar,  removed  to  a  like  Square  in  1838,  aged  seventy-nine, 
charge  in  Edinburgh  in  1 795,  where 


7826.]  JOURNAL.  231 

other  days  from  his  family.  So  he  will  demand  full  atten- 
tion from  all  and  sundry  before  he  begins  a  story,  and  once 
begun  there  is  no  chance  of  his  ending. 

July  26. — This  day  went  to  Selkirk,  and  held  a  Court. 
The  Doctor  and  Terry  chose  to  go  with  me.  Captain  and  Mrs. 
Hamilton  came  to  dinner.  Desperate  warm  weather !  Little 
done  in  the  literary  way  except  sending  off  proofs.  Eoup  of 
standing  corn,  etc.,  went  off  very  indifferently.  Letter  from 
Ballantyne  wanting  me  to  write  about  absentees.  But  I  have 
enough  to  do  without  burning  my  fingers  with  politics. 

July  27. — Up  and  at  it  this  morning,  and  finished  four 
pages.  An  unpleasant  letter  from  London,  as  if  I  might  be 
troubled  by  some  of  the  creditors  there,  when  going  to  town 
to  get  materials  for  Nap.  I  have  no  wish  to  go, — none  at 
all.  I  would  even  like  to  put  off  my  visit,  so  far  as  John 
Lockhart  and  my  daughter  are  concerned,  and  see  them  when 
the  meeting  could  be  more  pleasant.  But  then,  having  an 
offer  to  see  the  correspondence  from  St.  Helena,  I  can  make 
no  doubt  that  I  ought  to  go.  However,  if  it  is  to  infer  any 
danger  to  my  personal  freedom,  English  wind  will  not  blow 
on  me.  It  is  monstrous  hard  to  prevent  me  doing  what  is 
certainly  the  best  for  all  parties. 

July  28. — I  am  well-nigh  choked  with  the  sulphurous 
heat  of  the  weather — or  I  am  unwell,  for  I  perspire  as  if  I 
had  been  walking  hard,  and  my  hand  is  as  nervous  as  a 
paralytic's.  Eead  through  and  corrected  St.  Ronan's  Well. 
I  am  no  judge,  but  I  think  the  language  of  this  piece  rather 
good.  Then  I  must  allow  the  fashionable  portraits  are  not 
the  true  thing.  I  am  too  much  out  of  the  way  to  see  and 
remark  the  ridiculous  in  society.  The  story  is  terribly 
contorted  and  unnatural,  and  the  catastrophe  is  melancholy, 
which  should  always  be  avoided.  No  matter;  I  have 
corrected  it  for  the  press.1 

1  This  novel  was  passing  through      to  complete  collective  editions  in 
the  press  in  8vo,  12mo,  and   18mo,      these  sizes. — J.  G.  L. 


232  JOURNAL.  [JULY 

The  worthy  Lexicographer  left  us  to-day.  Somewhat 
ponderous  he  is,  poor  soul !  but  there  are  excellent  things 
about  him. 

Action  and  Reaction — Scots  proverb:  "the  unrest  (i.e. 
pendulum)  of  a  clock  goes  aye,  as  far  the  ae  gait  as  the  t'other." 

Walter's  account  of  his  various  quarters  per  last  despatch. 
Query  if  original : — 

"  Loughrea  is  a  blackguard  place 

To  Gort  I  give  my  curse  ; 
Athlone  itself  is  bad  enough, 

But  Ballinrobe  is  worse. 
I  cannot  tell  which  is  the  worst, 

They  're  all  so  very  bad  ; 
But  of  all  towns  I  ever  saw, 

Bad  luck  to  Kinnegad." 

Old  Mr.  Haliburton  dined  with  us,  also  Colonel  Russell. 
What  a  man  for  fourscore  or  thereby  is  Old  Haly — an 
Indian  too.  He  came  home  in  1785. 

July  29. — Yesterday  I  wrought  little,  and  light  work, 
almost  stifled  by  the  smothering  heat.  To-day  I  wrought 
about  half  task  in  the  morning,  and,  as  a  judgment  on  me  I 
think  for  yesterday's  sloth,  Mr.  H.  stayed  unusually  late  in 
the  forenoon.  He  is  my  friend,  my  father's  friend,  and  an 
excellent,  sensible  man  besides ;  and  a  man  of  eighty  and 
upwards  may  be  allowed  to  talk  long,  because  in  the  nature 
of  things  he  cannot  have  long  to  talk.  If  I  do  a  task  to-day, 
I  hope  to  send  a  good  parcel  on  Monday  and  keep  tryst 
pretty  well. 

July  30. — I  did  better  yesterday  than  I  had  hoped  for — 
four  instead  of  three  pages,  which,  considering  how  my  time 
was  cut  up  by  prolonged  morning  lounging  with  friend  Haly, 
was  pretty  fair.  I  wrote  a  good  task  before  eleven  o'clock, 
but  then  my  good  friends  twaddled  and  dawdled  for  near  two 
hours  before  they  set  off.  The  time  devoted  to  hospitality, 
especially  to  those  whom  I  can  reckon  upon  as  sincere  good 
friends,  I  never  grudge,  but  like  to  "  welcome  the  coming, 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  233 

speed  the  parting  guest."  By  my  will  every  guest  should 
part  at  half -past  ten,  or  arrange  himself  to  stay  for  the  day. 

We  had  a  long  walk  in  a  sweltering  hot  day.  Met  Mr. 
Blackwood  coming  to  call,  and  walked  him  on  with  us,  so 
blinked  his  visit — gratias,  domine ! !  Asked  him  for  breakfast 
to-morrow  to  make  amends.  I  rather  over-walked  myself — 
the  heat  considered. 

July  31st. — I  corrected  six  sheets  and  sent  them  off, 
with  eight  leaves  of  copy,  so  I  keep  forward  pretty  well. 
Blackwood  the  bookseller  came  over  from  Chiefswood  to 
breakfast,  and  this  kept  me  idle  till  eleven  o'clock.  At 
twelve  I  went  out  with  the  girls  in  the  sociable,  and  called 
on  the  family  at  Bemerside,  on  Dr.1  and  Mrs.  Brewster,  and 
Mr.  Bainbridge  at  Gattonside  House.  It  was  five  ere  we  got 
home,  so  there  was  a  day  dished,  unless  the  afternoon  does 
something  for  us.  I  am  keeping  up  pretty  well,  however, 
and,  after  all,  visitors  will  come,  and  calls  must  be  made.  I 
must  not  let  Anne  forego  the  custom  of  well-bred  society. 

1  Afterwards  Sir  David  Brewster.      Tweed,  aged  eighty-seven,  on  Feb- 
He  died  at  Allerley  House  on  the     ruary  10,  1868. 


AUGUST. 

August  1. — Yesterday  evening  did  nothing  for  the  idlesse 
of  the  morning.  I  was  hungry;  eat  and  drank  and  became 
drowsy ;  then  I  took  to  arranging  the  old  plays,  of  which 
Terry  had  brought  me  about  a  dozen,  and  dipping  into  them 
scrambled  through  two.  One,  called  Michaelmas  Term,1 
full  of  traits  of  manners;  and  another  a  sort  of  bouncing 
tragedy,  called  the  Hector  of  Germany,  or  the  Palsgrave? 
The  last,  worthless  in  the  extreme,  is,  like  many  of  the  plays 
in  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century,  written  to  a  good 
tune.  The  dramatic  poets  of  that  time  seem  to  have  possessed 
as  joint-stock  a  highly  poetical  and  abstract  tone  of  language, 
so  that  the  worst  of  them  often  remind  you  of  the  very  best. 
The  audience  must  have  had  a  much  stronger  sense  of  poetry 
in  those  days  than  now,  since  language  was  received  and 
applauded  at  the  Fortune  or  at  the  Eed  Bull,3  which  could 
not  now  be  understood  by  any  general  audience  in  Great 
Britain.  This  leads  far. 

This  morning  I  wrote  two  hours,  then  out  with  Tom 
Purdie,  and  gave  directions  about  thinning  all  the  planta- 
tions above  Abbotsford  properly  so  called.  Came  in  at  one 
o'clock  and  now  set  to  work.  Debout,  debout,  Lyciscas,  de- 
bout*  Finished  four  leaves. 

August  2. — Well;  and  to-day  I  finished  before  dinner 
five  leaves  more,  and  I  would  crow  a  little  about  it,  but  here 

1  By  Middleton,  1697.  3  Two  London  playhouses. —See 
8  The  Hector  of  Germanie,  or  the  KnighVaBiography  of  Shakespeare. 
Palsgrave  Prime  Elector.    An  Hon- 
ourable History  by  William  Smith.  4  Moliere's  La  Princesse  d'tih'de 
4to,  1615.  (Prologue). 
234 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  235 

comes  Duty  like  an  old  housekeeper  to  an  idle  chamber- 
maid. Hear  her  very  words : — 

DUTY. — Oh !  you  crow,  do  you  ?  Pray,  can  you  deny 
that  your  sitting  so  quiet  at  work  was  owing  to  its  raining 
heavily  all  the  forenoon,  and  indeed  till  dinner-time,  so  that 
nothing  would  have  stirred  out  that  could  help  it,  save  a 
duck  or  a  goose  ?  I  trow,  if  it  had  been  a  fine  day,  by  noon 
there  would  have  been  aching  of  the  head,  throbbing, 
shaking,  and  so  forth,  to  make  an  apology  for  going  out. 

EGOMET  IPSE. — And  whose  head  ever  throbbed  to  go 
out  when  it  rained,  Mrs.  Duty  ? 

DUTY. — Answer  not  to  me  with  a  fool-born  jest,  as  your 
poor  friend  Erskine  used  to  say  to  you  when  you  escaped 
from  his  good  advice  under  the  fire  of  some  silly  pun.  You 
smoke  a  cigar  after  dinner,  and  I  never  check  you — drink 
tea,  too,  which  is  loss  of  time  ;  and  then,  instead  of  writing 
me  one  other  page,  or  correcting  those  you  have  written  out, 
you  rollick  into  the  woods  till  you  have  not  a  dry  thread 
about  you ;  and  here  you  sit  writing  down  my  words  in  your 
foolish  journal  instead  of  minding  my  advice. 

EGO. — Why,  Mrs.  Duty,  I  would  as  gladly  be  friends 
with  [you]  as  Crabbe's1  tradesman  fellow  with  his  con- 
science ;  but  you  should  have  some  consideration  with  human 
frailty. 

DUTY. — Eeckon  not  on  that.  But,  however,  good-night 
for  the  present.  I  would  only  recommend  to  you  to  think 
no  thoughts  in  which  I  am  not  mingled — to  read  no  books 
in  which  I  have  no  concern — to  write  three  sheets  of  both- 
eration all  the  six  days  of  the  week  per  diem,  and  on  the 
seventh  to  send  them  to  the  printer.  Thus  advising,  I 
heartily  bid  you  farewell 

EGO. — Farewell,  madam  (exit  Duty)  and  be  d — d  to  ye 
for  an  unreasonable  bitch !  "  The  devil  must  be  in  this 
greedy  gled ! "  as  the  Earl  of  Angus  said  to  his  hawk ;  "  will 
1  See  Crabbe's  Tale  of  The  Struggles  of  Conscience. — j.  o.  L. 


236  JOUENAL.  [AUGUST 

she  never  be  satisfied  ? ' l  I  believe  in  my  soul  she  is  the 
very  hag  who  haunted  the  merchant  Abudah.2 

I  '11  have  my  great  chest  upstairs  exorcised,  but  first  I  'II 
take  a  nap  till  supper,  which  must  take  place  within  ten 
minutes. 

August  3. — Wrote  half  a  task  in  the  morning.  From 
eleven  till  half-past  eight  in  Selkirk  taking  precognitions 
about  a  row,  and  came  home  famished  and  tired.  Now,  Mrs. 
Duty,  do  you  think  there  is  no  other  Duty  of  the  family  but 
yourself  ?  Or  can  the  Sheriff- depute  neglect  his  Duty,  that 
the  author  may  mind  his  ?  The  thing  cannot  be ;  the  people 
of  Selkirk  must  have  justice  as  well  as  the  people  of  England 
books.  So  the  two  Duties  may  go  pull  caps  about  it.  My 
conscience  is  clear. 

August  4. — "Wrote  to  Miss  Edgeworth  on  her  sister's 
marriage,  which  consumed  the  better  part  of  the  morning. 
I  must  read  for  Marengo.  Item,  I  must  look  at  the  pruning. 
Item,  at  the  otter  hunt ;  but  my  hope  is  constant  to  make 
up  a  good  day's  task  notwithstanding.  Failed  in  finding 
the  otter,  and  was  tired  and  slept,  and  did  but  a  poor  day's 
work. 

August  6. — Wrote  to-day  a  very  good  day's  work. 
Walked  to  Chiefswood,  and  saw  old  Mrs.  Tytler,3  a  friend 
when  life  was  young.  Her  husband,  Lord  Woodhouselee, 
was  a  kind,  amiable,  and  accomplished  man ;  and  when  we 
lived  at  Lasswade  Cottage,  soon  after  my  marriage,  we  saw 
a  great  deal  of  the  family,  who  were  very  kind  to  us  as 
newly  entered  on  the  world.4  Walked  home,  and  worked 
in  the  evening ;  four  leaves  finished. 

1  Tales  of  a  Grandfather,  Miscell.  1859.  Mrs.  Tytler  died  in  London, 

Prose  Works,  vol.  xxiii.  p.  72.  aged  eighty-four,  in  1837. 

3  See  Tales  of  the  Genii.  Tfie  4  Alexr.  Fraser  Tytler,  1747-1813. 

Talisman  of  Oromanes.  Besides  his  acknowledged  works, 

3  Eldest  daughter  of  William  Lord  Woodhouselee  published  an- 

Fraser  of  Balnain. — See  Burgon's  onymously  a  translation  of  Schil- 

Life  of  P.  F.  Tytler,  8vo,  Lond.  ler's  Robbers  as  early  as  1792. 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  237 

August  7. — My  niece  Anne  leaves  us  this  morning, 
summoned  back  from  one  scene  of  distress  to  another.  Her 
uncle,  David  Macculloch,  is  extremely  ill — a  paralytic  stroke, 
I  fancy.  She  is  a  charming  girl,  lady -like  in  thought  and 
action,  and  very  pleasant  in  society.  We  are  to  dine  to-day 
with  our  neighbours  at  Gattonside.  Meantime  I  will  avail 
myself  of  my  disposition  to  labour,  and  work  instead  of 
journalising. 

Mr.  H.  Cranstoun1  looked  in — a  morning  call.  He  is 
become  extremely  deaf.  He  gave  me  a  letter  from  the 
Countess  Purgstall,  his  sister,  which  I  have  not  the  heart  to 
open,  so  many  reproaches  I  have  deserved  for  not  writing. 
It  is  a  sad  thing,  though,  to  task  eyes  as  hard  wrought  as 
mine  to  keep  up  correspondence.  Dined  at  Gattonside.2 

August  8. — Wrote  my  task  this  morning,  and  now  for 
walk.  Dine  to-day  at  Chiefswood;  have  company  to-morrow. 
Why,  this  is  dissipation !  But  no  matter,  Mrs.  Duty,  if  the 
task  is  done.  "  Ay,  but,"  says  she,  "  you  ought  to  do  some- 
thing extra — provide  against  a  rainy  day."  Not  I,  I  '11  make 
a  rainy  day  provide  against  a  fair  one,  Mrs.  Duty.  I  write 
twice  as  much  in  bad  weather.  Seriously,  I  write  fully  as 
much  as  I  ought.  I  do  not  like  this  dull  aching  in  the  chest 
and  the  back,  and  its  giving  way  to  exercise  shows  that  it 
originates  in  remaining  too  long  in  a  sitting  posture.  So  I  '11 
take  the  field,  while  the  day  is  good. 

August  9. — I  wrote  only  two  leaves  to-day,  but  with  as 
many  additions  as  might  rank  for  three.  I  had  a  long  and 

1  Henry  Cranstoun,  elder  brother  friend  of  Scott's  was  thought  by 

of   Lord   Corehouse   and   Countess  Captain  Hall  to  have  been  the  proto- 

Purgstall.      He    resided   for   some  type  of  Diana  Vernon — "that  safest 

years    near    Abbotsford,     at     the  of   secret   keepers." — See    Schloss 

Pavilion  on  the  Tweed,  where  he  Hainfeld,  8vo,  Lond.  1836. 
died  in  1843,  aged  eighty-six.     An         2  The  property  of  Gattonside  had 

interesting    account    of    Countess  been  purchased  in  1824  by  George 

Purgstall  is  given  by  Basil  Hall,  Bainbridge   of    Liverpool,    a   keen 

who  was  with  her  in  Styria  at  her  angler,  author  of  The  fly  Fisfier's 

death  in    1835.      This  very  early  Guide,  8vo,  Liverpool,  1816. 


238  JOUENAL.  [AUGUST 

warm  walk.  Mrs.  Tytler  of  Woodhouselee,  the  Hamiltons, 
and  Colonel  Ferguson  dined  here.  How  many  early  stories 
did  the  old  lady's  presence  recall !  She  might  almost  be  my 
mother,  yet  there  we  sat,  like  two  people  of  another  genera- 
tion, talking  of  things  and  people  the  rest  knew  nothing  of. 
When  a  certain  period  of  life  is  survived,  the  difference  of 
years  between  the  survivors,  even  when  considerable,  becomes 
of  much  less  consequence. 

August  10. — Eose  early,  and  wrote  hard  till  two,  when 
I  went  with  Anne  to  Minto.  The  place,  being  new  to  my 
companion,  gave  her  much  amusement.  We  found  the 
Scotts  of  Harden,  etc.,  and  had  a  very  pleasant  party.  I  like 
Lady  M.  particularly,  but  missed  my  facetious  and  lively 
friend,  Lady  A[nna]  M[aria].x  It  is  the  fashion  for  women 
and  silly  men  to  abuse  her  as  a  blue-stocking.  If  to  have 
wit,  good  sense,  and  good-humour,  mixed  with  a  strong  power 
of  observing,  and  an  equally  strong  one  of  expressing  the 
result,  be  Uue,  she  shall  be  as  blue  as  they  will.  Such  cant  is 
the  refuge  of  persons  who  fear  those  who  they  [think]  can  turn 
them  into  ridicule ;  it  is  a  common  trick  to  revenge  supposed 
raillery  with  good  substantial  calumny.  Slept  at  Minto. 

August  1 1. — I  was  up  as  usual,  and  wrote  about  two  leaves, 
meaning  to  finish  my  task  at  home ;  but  found  my  Sheriff- 
substitute2  here  on  my  return,  which  took  up  the  evening. 
But  I  shall  finish  the  volume  on  Sunday ;  that  is  less  than 
a  month  after  beginning  it.  The  same  exertion  would  bring 
the  book  out  at  Martinmas,  but  December  is  a  better  time. 

August  1 2. — Wrote  a  little  in  the  morning ;  then  Duty 
and  I  have  settled  that  this  is  to  be  a  kind  of  holiday, 
providing  the  volume  be  finished  to-morrow.  I  went  to 
breakfast  at  Chiefswood,  and  after  that  affair  was  happily 
transacted,  I  wended  me  merrily  to  the  Black  Cock  Stripe, 
and  there  caused  Tom  Purdie  and  John  Swanston  cut  out  a 

1  Lady  Anna  Maria  Elliot,  see  ante,  p.  133. 

2  W.  Scott  of  Maxpopple. 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  239 

quantity  of  firs.  Got  home  about  two  o'clock,  and  set  to 
correct  a  set  of  proofs.  James  Ballantyne  presages  well  of 
this  work,  but  is  afraid  of  inaccuracies — so  am  I — but  things 
must  be  as  they  may.  There  is  a  kind  of  glamour  about 
me,  which  sometimes  makes  me  read  dates,  etc.,  in  the 
proof-sheets,  not  as  they  actually  do  stand,  but  as  they 
ought  to  stand.  I  wonder  if  a  pill  of  holy  trefoil  would 
dispel  this  fascination. 

By  the  way,  John  Swanston  measured  a  young  shoot 
that  was  growing  remarkably,  and  found  that  for  three  days 
successively  it  grew  half  an  inch  every  day.  Fine-Ear1 
used  to  hear  the  grass  grow — how  far  off  would  he  have 
heard  this  extravagant  rapidity  of  vegetation  ?  The  tree  is 
a  silver  fir  or  spruce  in  the  patch  at  the  Green-tongue  park. 

August  13. — Yesterday  I  was  tired  of  labouring  in  the 
rough  ground.  Well,  I  must  be  content  to  feel  my  dis- 
abilities increase.  One  sure  thing  is,  that  all  wise  men  will 
soon  contrive  to  lay  aside  inclination  when  performance 
grows  toilsome.  I  have  hobbled  over  many  a  rough  heugh 
in  my  day — no  wonder  if  I  must  sing  at  last — 

"  Thus  says  the  auld  man  to  the  aik  tree, 
Sair  failed,  hinny,  since  I  kenn'd  thee." 

But  here  are  many  a  mile  of  smooth  walk,  just  when  I  grow 
unable  to  face  bent  and  brae,  and  here  is  the  garden  when 
all  fails.  To  a  sailor  the  length  of  his  quarter-deck  is  a 
good  space  of  exercising  ground. 

I  wrote  a  good  task  to-day,  then  walked  to  the  lake,  then 
came  back  by  three  o'clock,  hungering  and  thirsting  to 
finish  the  volume.  I  have  seldom  such  fits  of  voluntary 
industry,  so  Duty  shall  have  the  benefit. 

Finished  volume  iv.  this  evening — Deo  Gfratias. 

August  14. — This  is  a  morning  I  have  not  seen  many 
a  day,  for  it  appears  to  set  in  for  a  rainy  day.  It  has  not 
kept  its  word  though.  I  was  seized  by  a  fit  of  the  "  clevers," 

i  In  the  fairy  tale  of  Countess  D'Aulnoy — Fortunio. 


240  JOUENAL.  [AUGUST 

and  finished  my  task  "by  twelve  o'clock,  and  hope  to  add 
something  in  the  evening.  I  was  guilty,  however,  of  some 
waywardness,  for  I  began  volume  v.  of  Boney  instead  of 
carrying  on  the  Ganongate  as  I  proposed.  The  reason,  how- 
ever, was  that  I  might  not  forget  the  information  I  had 
acquired  about  the  Treaty  of  Amiens. 

August  15. — The  weather  seems  decidedly  broken. 
Yesterday,  indeed,  cleared  up,  but  this  day  seems  to  per- 
severe in  raining.  Ndbodish!  It's  a  rarity  nowadays. 
I  write  on,  though  a  little  afflicted  with  the  oppression  on 
my  chest.  Sometimes  I  think  it  is  something  dangerous, 
but  as  it  always  goes  away  on  change  of  posture,  it  cannot 
be  speedily  so.  I  want  to  finish  my  task,  and  then  good- 
night. I  will  never  relax  my  labour  in  these  affairs,  either 
for  fear  of  pain  or  love  of  life.  I  will  die  a  free  man,  if 
hard  working  will  do  it.  Accordingly,  to-day  I  cleared  the 
ninth  leaf,  which  is  the  tenth  part  of  a  volume,  in  two  days 
— four  and  a  half  leaves  a  day.  Walter  and  Jane,  with  Mrs. 
Jobson,  are  arrived  to  interrupt  me. 

August  16. — God  be  praised  for  restoring  to  me  my  dear 
children  in  good  health,  which  has  made  me  happier  than 
anything  that  has  happened  these  several  months.  Walter 
and  Jane  appear  cordial  and  happy  in  each  other;  the 
greatest  blessing  Heaven  can  bestow  on  them  or  me  who 
witness  it.  If  we  had  Lockhart  and  Sophia,  there  would  be 
a  meeting  of  the  beings  dearest  to  me  in  life.  Walked  to 
Huntly  Burn,  where  I  found  a  certain  lady  on  a  visit — so 
youthy,  so  beautiful,  so  strong  in  voice — with  sense  and 
learning — above  all,  so  fond  of  good  conversation,  that,  in 
compassion  to  my  eyes,  ears,  and  understanding,  I  bolted 
in  the  middle  of  a  tremendous  shower  of  rain,  and  rather 
chose  to  be  wet  to  the  skin  than  to  be  bethumped  with 
words  at  that  rate.  There  seemed  more  than  I  of  the  same 
opinion,  for  Col  Ferguson  chose  the  ducking  rather  than 
the  conversation.  Younsj  Mr.  Surtees  came  this  evening. 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  241 

August  1 7. — Wrote  half  a  leaf  short  of  my  task,  having 
proofs,  etc.,  to  correct,  and  being  called  early  to  walk  with 
the  ladies.  I  have  gained  three  leaves  in  the  two  following 
days,  so  I  cannot  blame  myself.  Sat  cito  si  sat  bene.  Sat 
boni  I  am  sure — I  may  say — a  truly  execrable  pun  that ; 
hope  no  one  will  find  it  out. 

In  the  evening  we  had  music  from  the  girls,  and  the 
voice  of  the  harp  and  viol  were  heard  in  my  halls  once  more, 
which  have  been  so  long  deprived  of  mirth.  It  is  with  a  mixed 
sensation  I  hear  these  sounds.  I  look  on  my  children  and 
am  happy  ;  and  yet  every  now  and  then  a  pang  shoots  across 
my  heart.  It  seems  so  strange  that  my  poor  wife  should  not 
be  there.  But  enough  of  this.  Colonel  Ferguson  dined. 

August  18. — Again  I  fell  a  half  page  behind,  being 
summoned  out  too  early  for  my  task,  but  I  am  still  two 
leaves  before  on  the  whole  week.  It  is  natural  to  see  as 
much  of  these  young  people  as  I  can.  Walter  talks  of  the 
Ionian  Islands.  It  is  an  awful  distance.  A  long  walk 
in  very  warm  weather.  Music  in  the  evening. 

August  1 9. — This  morning  wrote  none,  excepting  extracts, 
etc.,  being  under  the  necessity  of  reading  and  collating  a 
great  deal,  which  lasted  till  one  o'clock  or  thereabouts, 
when  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Brewster  and  their  young  people  came 
to  spend  a  day  of  happiness  at  the  lake.  We  were  met 
there  by  Captain  and  Mrs.  Hamilton  and  a  full  party. 
Since  the  days  of  Seged,  Emperor  of  Ethiopia,1  these  days 
of  appointed  sport  and  happiness  have  seldom  answered ; 
but  we  came  off  indifferently  well.  We  did  not  indeed 
catch  much  fish ;  but  we  lounged  about  in  a  delightful  day, 
eat  and  drank — and  the  children,  who  are  very  fine  infantry, 
were  clamorously  enjoying  themselves.  We  sounded  the 
loch  in  two  or  three  different  places — the  deepest  may  be 
sixty  feet.  I  was  accustomed  to  think  it  much  more,  but 
your  deepest  pools,  like  your  deepest  politicians  and  philo- 
1  See  Johnson's  Rambler,  Nos.  204  and  205. 
Q 


242  JOURNAL.  [AUGUST 

sophers,  often  turn  out  more  shallow  than  was  expected. 
The  whole  party  dine  with  us. 

August  20. — Wrote  four  leaves.  The  day  wet  and 
rainy,  though  not  uniformly  so.  No  temptation,  however,  to 
play  truant ;  so  this  will  make  some  amends  for  a  blank  day 
yesterday.  I  am  far  in  advance  of  the  press,  but  it  is 
necessary  if  I  go  to  Drumlanrig  on  Wednesday  as  I 
intend,  and  to  Lochore  next  week,  which  I  also  meditate. 
This  will  be  no  great  interruption,  however,  if  I  can  keep 
the  Ganongate  moving,  for  I  shall  be  more  than  half  a 
volume  in  advance  with  Napoleon. 

August  21. — Wrought  out  my  task,  though  much 
bothered  with  a  cold  in  my  head  and  face,  how  caught  I 
know  not.  Mrs.  Crampton,  wife  of  the  Surgeon-General  *  in 
Ireland,  sends  to  say  she  is  hereabouts,  so  we  ask  her. 
Hospitality  must  not  be  neglected,  and  most  hospitable  are 
the  Cramptons.  All  the  "calliachs"2  from  HuntlyBurn  are 
to  be  here,  and  Anne  wishes  we  may  have  enough  of  dinner. 
Naboclish !  it  is  hoped  there  will  be  a  piece  de  resistance. 

August  22. — Mrs.  and  Misses  Crampton  departed.  I 
was  rather  sorry  to  give  them  such  brief  entertainment,  for 
they  were  extremely  kind.  But  going  to  Eildon  Hall  to- 
day, and  to  Drumlanrig  to-morrow,  there  was  nothing  more 
could  be  done  for  them.  It  is  raining  now  " successfully"  as 
old  Macfarlane  of  the  Arroquhar  used  to  say.  What  is  the 
odds  ?  We  get  a  soaking  before  we  cross  the  Birkendailly — 
wet  against  dry,  ten  to  one. 

August  23  [Bittock's  Bridge]. — Set  off  cheerily  with 
Walter,  Charles,  and  Surtees  in  the  sociable,  to  make  our 
trip  to  Drumlanrig.  We  breakfasted  at  Mr.  Boyd's,  Broad- 
meadows,  and  were  received  with  Yarrow  hospitality. 
From  thence  climbed  the  Yarrow,  and  skirted  Saint 

1  Afterwards  Sir  Philip  Cramp-  had  met,  not  in  person  only,  but  in 

ton.    ' '  The  Surgeon-General  struck  the    liveliness    and    range    of    his 

Sir  Walter  as  being  more  like  Sir  talk." — Life,  vol.  viii.  p.  23. 

Humphry  Davy  than  any  man  he  2  Gaelic  for  "old  women." 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  243 

Mary's  Lake,  and  ascended  the  Birkhill  path,  under  the 
moist  and  misty  influence  of  the  genius  loci.  Never  mind ; 
my  companions  were  merry  and  I  cheerful.  When  old 
people  can  be  with  the  young  without  fatiguing  them  or 
themselves,  their  tempers  derive  the  same  benefits  which 
some  fantastic  physicians  of  old  supposed  accrued  to  their 
constitutions  from  the  breath  of  the  young  and  healthy. 
You  have  not,  cannot  again  have,  their  gaiety  of  pleasure 
in  seeing  sights,  but  still  it  reflects  itself  upon  you,  and 
you  are  cheered  and  comforted.  Our  luncheon  eaten  in  the 
herd's  cottage ;  but  the  poor  woman  saddened  me  unawares, 
by  asking  for  poor  Charlotte,  whom  she  had  often  seen  there 
with  me.  She  put  me  in  mind  that  I  had  come  twice  over 
those  hills  and  bogs  with  a  wheeled-carriage,  before  the 
road,  now  an  excellent  one,  was  made.  I  knew  it  was  true ; 
but,  on  my  soul,  looking  where  we  must  have  gone,  I  could 
hardly  believe  I  had  been  such  a  fool.  For  riding,  pass  if 
you  will ;  but  to  put  one's  neck  in  such  a  venture  with  a 
wheeled-carriage  was  too  silly.  Here  we  are,  however,  at 
Bittock's  Inn  for  this  night. 

Drumlanrig,  August  24. — This  morning  lunched  at 
Parkgate  under  a  very  heavy  shower,  and  then  pushed 
on  to  Drumlanrig,  where  I  was  pleased  to  see  the  old 
Castle,  and  old  servants  solicitous  and  anxious  to  be  civil. 
What  visions  does  not  this  magnificent  old  house  brinp; 

o  o 

back  to  me!  The  exterior  is  much  improved  since  I 
first  knew  it.  It  was  then  in  the  state  of  dilapidation 
to  which  it  had  been  abandoned  by  the  celebrated  old  Q.,1 

1  William  Douglas,  fourth  Duke        See  Wordsworth's  indignant  lines 
of  Queensberry,  succeeded,  on  the     beginning  : 

death  of  his  kinsman,  Duke  Charles, 

"Degenerate   Douglas,  oh  the  unworthy 
in  1778.    He  died  in  IS  10  at  the  age  Lord"; 

of  eighty-six,  when  his  titles  and  ,        „ 

j-  -j  j   v,  *  *u  also    George  Selwyn  and  his  Con- 

estates  were  divided  between  the 

_..       ,,,      ,       ,     T      j  T»       *  temporaries,    4    vols.    8vo.    Lond. 

Duke  of  Buccleuch,  Lord  Douglas,  .'„  . 

the  Marquis  of  Queensberry,   and 
the  Earl  of  Weinyss. 


244  JOUKNAL,  [AUGUST 

and  was  indeed  scarce  wind  and  water  tight.  Then 
the  whole  wood  had  been  felled,  and  the  outraged  castle 
stood  in  the  midst  of  waste  and  desolation,  excepting  a 
few  scattered  old  stumps,  not  judged  worth  the  cutting. 
Now,  the  whole  has  been,  ten  or  twelve  years  since,  com- 
pletely replanted,  and  the  scattered  seniors  look  as  graceful 
as  fathers  surrounded  by  their  children.  The  face  of  this 
immense  estate  has  been  scarcely  less  wonderfully  changed. 
The  scrambling  tenants,  who  held  a  precarious  tenure 
of  lease  under  the  Duke  of  Queensberry,  at  the  risk  (as 
actually  took  place)  of  losing  their  possession  at  his  death, 
have  given  room  to  skilful  and  labouring  men,  working 
their  farms  regularly,  and  enjoying  comfortable  houses  and 
their  farms  at  a  fair  rent,  which  is  enough  to  forbid  idle- 
ness, but  not  enough  to  overpower  industry. 

August  25. — Here  are  Lord  and  Lady  Home,1  Charles 
Douglas,2  Lord  and  Lady  Charlotte  Stopford.3  I  grieve  to 
say  the  last,  though  as  beautiful  as  ever,  is  extremely  thin, 
and  looks  delicate.  The  Duke  himself  has  grown  up  into  a 
graceful  and  apparently  strong  young  man,  and  received  us 
most  kindly.  I  think  he  will  be  well  qualified  to  sustain  his 
difficult  and  important  task.  The  heart  is  excellent,  so  are 
the  talents, — good  sense  and  knowledge  of  the  world,  picked 
up  at  one  of  the  great  English  schools  (and  it  is  one  of  their 
most  important  results),  will  prevent  him  from  being  de- 
ceived ;  and  with  perfect  good-nature,  he  has  a  natural  sense 
of  his  own  situation,  which  will  keep  him  from  associating 
with  unworthy  companions.  God  bless  him  !  His  father 
and  I  loved  each  other  well,  and  his  beautiful  mother  had  as 
much  of  the  angel  as  is  permitted  to  walk  this  earth.  I  see 

1  Alexander,  tenth  Earl  of  Home,  ford,  afterwards  fourth  Earl  of  Cour- 
and     his     wife,     Lady    Elizabeth,  town,  and  his  wife,  Lady  Charlotte, 
daughter  of  Henry,  third  Duke  of  sister  of  the   then  Duke    of  Buc- 
Buccleuch.  cleuch,   at  that  time   still  in    his 

2  Charles,  second  son  of  Archibald  minority.       Lady    Charlotte    died 
Lord  Douglas.  within    eighteen    months    of    this 

8  James  Thomas,  Viscount  Stop-      date. 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  245 

the  balcony  from  which  they  welcomed  poor  Charlotte  and 
me,  long  ere  the  ascent  was  surmounted,  streaming  out  their 
white  handkerchiefs  from  the  battlements.  There  were  four 
merry  people  that  day — now  one  sad  individual  is  all  that 
remains.  Singula  praedantur  anni.  I  had  a  long  walk 
to-day  through  the  new  plantation,  the  Duchess's  Walk  by 
the  Nith,  etc.  (formed  by  Prior's  Kitty  young  and  gay  *)  ; 
fell  in  with  the  ladies,  but  their  donkeys  outwalked  me — a 
flock  of  sheep  afterwards  outwalked  me,  and  I  begin  to  think, 
on  my  conscience,  that  a  snail  put  in  training  might  soon 
outwalk  me.  I  must  lay  the  old  salve  to  the  old  sore,  and 
be  thankful  for  being  able  to  walk  at  all. 

Nothing  was  written  to-day,  my  writing-desk  having 
been  forgot  at  Parkgate,  but  Tom  Crighton  kindly  fetched 
it  up  to-day,  so  something  more  or  less  may  be  done  to- 
morrow morning — and  now  to  dress. 

[Bittock's  Bridge,]  August  26. — We  took  our  departure 
from  the  friendly  halls  of  Drumlanrig  this  morning  after 
breakfast  and  leave-taking.  I  trust  this  young  nobleman 

will  be 

"  A  hedge  about  his  friends, 
A  hackle  to  his  foes."  2 

I  would  have  him  not  quite  so  soft-natured  as  his  grand- 
father, whose  kindness  sometimes  mastered  his  excellent 
understanding.  His  father  had  a  temper  which  better 
jumped  with  my  humour.  Enough  of  ill-nature  to  keep 

>  "Thus  Kitty,  beautiful  and  young,  the  Female  Phaeton — 

And  wild  as  colt  untamed."  ••  To  many  a  Kitty  Love  his  car,  will  for  a 

day  engage, 

Catherine      Hyde,     daughter    of  But  Prior's  Kitty,  ever  fair,  obtained  it 

Henry  Earl  of  Clarendon,  and  wife  for  an  age'" 

of  Charles  Duke  of  Queensberry.  She  died  at  a  g"»*  age  in  1777. 

She  was  the  friend  of  Gay,  and  her  For  her  letter  to  George  11.  when 

beauty,    wit,    and    oddities    have  forbid   the  Court,  see  Agar  Ellis, 

been  celebrated  in  prose  and  rhyme  Historical    Inquiries,    Lond.    1827, 

by  the  wits  and  poets  of  two  genera-  P-  *"• 

tions.  Fifty-six  years  after  Prior  had  2  Ballad  on    young    Rob    Roy's 

sung  her   "mad  Grace's"  praises,  abduction  of  Jean  Key,   Cromek's 

Wai  pole  added  those  two  lines  to  Collections.  — j.  G.  L. 


246  JOUENAL.  [  AUGUST 

your  good-nature  from  being  abused  is  no  bad  ingredient  in 
their  disposition  who  have  favours  to  bestow.1 

In  coming  from  Parkgate  here  I  intended  to  accomplish 
a  purpose  which  I  have  for  some  years  entertained,  of  visit- 
ing Lochwood,  the  ancient  seat  of  the  Johnstones,  of  which 
King  James  said,  when  he  visited  it,  that  the  man  who  built 
it  must  have  been  a  thief  in  his  heart.  It  rained  heavily, 
however,  which  prevented  my  making  this  excursion,  and 
indeed  I  rather  overwalked  myself  yesterday,  and  have 
occasion  for  rest. 

"  So  sit  down,  Kobin,  and  rest  thee." 

Abbotsford,  August  27. — To-day  we  journeyed  through 
the  hills  and  amongst  the  storms ;  the  weather  rather  bully- 
ing than  bad.  We  viewed  the  Grey  Mare's  Tail,  and  I  still 
felt  confident  in  crawling  along  the  ghastly  bank  by  which 
you  approach  the  fall.  I  will  certainly  get  some  road  of 
application  to  Mr.  Hope  Johnstone,  to  pray  him  to  make  the 
place  accessible.  We  got  home  before  half-past  five,  having 
travelled  forty  miles. 

Blair-Adam,  August  28. — Set  off  with  Walter  and  Jane 
at  seven  o'clock,  and  reached  this  place  in  the  middle  of 
dinner-time.  By  some  of  my  not  unusual  blunders  we  had 
come  a  day  before  we  were  expected.  Luckily,  in  this 
ceremonious  generation,  there  are  still  houses  where  such 
blunders  only  cause  a  little  raillery,  and  Blair- Adam  is  one 
of  them.  My  excellent  friend  is  in  high  health  and  spirits, 
to  which  the  presence  of  Sir  Frederick  adds  not  a  little.2 
His  lady  is  here — a  beautiful  woman,  whose  countenance 
realises  all  the  poetic  dreams  of  Byron.  There  is  certainly 
[a]  something  of  full  maturity  of  beauty  which  seems  framed 
to  be  adoring  and  adored,  and  it  is  to  be  found  in  the  full 
dark  eye,  luxuriant  tresses,  and  rich  complexion  of  Greece, 

1  See  Letter  to  C.  K.  Sharpe,  from  guished   soldier,   afterwards  High 
Drumlanrig,  vol.  ii.  pp.  369-71.  Commissioner  of  the  Ionian  Islands, 

2  Sir   Frederick  Adam,    son    of  and     subsequently     Governor     of 
the  Chief  Commissioner — a  distin-  Madras  ;  he  died  in  1853. 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  247 

and  not  among  the  pale  unripened  beauties  of  the  north. 
What  sort  of  a  mind  this  exquisite  casket  may  contain  is 
not  so  easily  known.  She  is  anxious  to  please,  and  willing 
to  be  pleased,  and,  with  her  striking  beauty,  cannot  fail  to 
succeed. 

August  29. — To-day  we  designed  to  go  to  Lochore. 
But  "  heigho !  the  wind  and  the  rain."  Besides  Mrs.  and 
Admiral  Adam,  Mrs.  Loch,  and  Miss  Adam,  I  find  here 
Mr.  Impey,  son  of  that  Sir  Elijah  celebrated  in  Indian 
history.  He  has  himself  been  in  India,  but  has,  with  a 
great  deal  of  sense  and  observation,  much  better  address 
than  always  falls  to  the  share  of  the  Eastern  adventurer. 
The  art  of  quiet  and  entertaining  conversation,  which  is 
always  easy  as  well  as  entertaining,  is  chiefly  known  in 
England.  In  Scotland  we  are  pedantic  and  wrangle,  or  we 
run  away  with  the  harrows  on  some  topic  we  chance  to  be 
discursive  upon.  In  Ireland  they  have  too  much  vivacity, 
and  are  too  desirous  to  make  a  show,  to  preserve  the  golden 
mean.  They  are  the  Gascons  of  Britain.  George  Ellis  was 
the  best  converser  I  ever  knew;  his  patience  and  good 
breeding  made  me  often  ashamed  of  myself  going  off  at 
score  upon  some  favourite  topic.  Richard  Sharp  is  so 
celebrated  for  this  peculiar  gift  as  to  be  generally  called 
Conversation  Sharp.1  The  worst  of  this  talent  is  that  it 
seems  to  lack  sincerity.  You  never  know  what  are  the  real 
sentiments  of  a  good  converser,  or  at  least  it  is  very  difficult 
to  discover  to  what  extent  he  entertains  them.  His  polite- 
ness is  inconsistent  with  energy.  For  forming  a  good 
converser,  good  taste  and  extensive  information  and  ac- 
complishment are  the  principal  requisites,  to  which  must  be 
added  an  easy  and  elegant  delivery  and  a  well-toned  voice. 

1  Mr.   Richard   Sharp  published  had    been  Member  of   Parliament 

in  1834  a  very  elegant  and  interest-  from  1806  to  1820,  and  died  on  the 

ing   little  volume  of   Letters    and  30th  of  March  1835  at  the  age  of 

Essays,   in  Prose  and    Verse. — See  seventy-six. 
Quarterly  Review,  102. — j.  o.  t,.    He 


248  JOUKNAL.  [AUGUST  1826. 

I  think  the  higher  order  of  genius  is  not  favourable  to  this 
talent. 

Mrs.  Impey,  an  intelligent  person,  likes  music,  and 
particularly  Scotch  airs,  which  few  people  play  better  than 
Mrs.  Lockhart  and  Miss  Louisa  Adam.  Had  a  letter  from 
Mr.  William  Upcott,  London  Institution,  proposing  to  me 
to  edit  an  edition  of  Garrick's  Correspondence,  which  I 
declined  by  letter  of  this  day.  Thorough  decided  downfall 
of  rain.  Nothing  for  it  but  patience  and  proof-sheets. 

August  30. — The  weather  scarce  permitted  us  more 
licence  than  yesterday,  yet  we  went  down  to  Lochore,  and 
Walter  and  I  perambulated  the  property,  and  discussed  the 
necessity  of  a  new  road  from  the  south-west,  also  that  of 
planting  some  willows  along  the  ditches  in  the  low  grounds. 
Returned  to  Blair- Adam  to  dinner. 

Abbotsford,  August  31. — Left  Blair  at  seven  in  the  morn- 
ing. Transacted  business  with  Cadell  and  Ballantyne,  but 
our  plans  will,  I  think,  be  stopped  or  impeded  by  the  opera- 
tions before  the  Arbiter,  Mr.  Irving,  who  leans  more  to  the 
side  of  the  opposite  [party]  than  I  expected.  I  have  a  letter 
from  Gibson,  found  on  my  arrival  at  Abbotsford,  which  gives 
rather  a  gloomy  account  of  that  matter.  It  seems  strange 
that  I  am  to  be  bound  to  write  for  men  who  have  broken 
every  bargain  with  me. 

Arrived  at  Abbotsford  at  eight  o'clock  at  night 


SEPTEMBER 

September  1. — Awaked  with  a  headache,  which  the  recon- 
sideration of  Gibson's  news  did  not  improve.  We  save 
Bonaparte  however,  and  that  is  a  great  thing.  I  will  not  be 
downcast  about  it,  let  the  worst  come  that  can ;  but  I  wish 
I  saw  that  worst.  It  is  the  devil  to  be  struggling  forward, 
like  a  man  in  the  mire,  and  making  not  an  inch  by  your 
exertions,  and  such  seems  to  be  my  fate.  Well !  I  have 
much  to  comfort  me,  and  I  will  take  comfort.  If  there  be 
further  wrath  to  come,  I  shall  be  glad  that  I  bear  it  alone. 
Poor  Charlotte  was  too  much  softened  by  prosperity  to  look 
adverse  circumstances  courageously  in  the  face.  Anne  is 
young,  and  has  Sophia  and  Jane  to  trust  to  for  assistance. 

September  2. — Wrote  this  morning,  but  only  two  pages 
or  thereabouts.  At  twelve  o'clock  set  out  with  Anne  and 
Walter  to  visit  at  Makerstoun,  but  the  road  between  Makers- 
toun  and  Merton  being  very  bad,  we  drove,  I  dare  say,  thirty 
miles  in  going  and  coming,  by  a  circuitous  route,  and  only 
got  home  at  half-past  seven  at  night.  Saw  Lady  Brisbane 
Makdougall,  but  not  Sir  Thomas.1  Thought  of  old  Sir  Henry 
and  his  older  father  Sir  George.  Eeceived  a  box  of 
Australian  seeds,  forwarded  by  Andrew  Murray,  now  head- 
gardener  to  the  Governor,  whom  I  detected  a  clever  boy, 
among  my  labourers  in  1812,  and  did  a  little  for  him.  It 
is  pleasant  to  see  men  thrive  and  be  grateful  at  the  same 
time,  so  good  luck  to  "  Andrew  Mora, "  as  we  called  him. 

Sir  Thomas  Brisbane,  who  had  daughter  of  Sir  Henry  Hay  Mak- 

formerly  commanded  a  brigade  in  dougall  of  Makerstoun,  Bart.     Sir 

the  Peninsula.   In  1832  he  succeeded  Thomas  died  at  Brisbane  House, 

Sir  Walter  Scott  as  President  of  Ayrshire,  in  January  18GO,  in  the 

the   Royal  Society   of  Edinburgh,  eighty-seventh  year  of  his  age. 
Sir  Thomas  had  married  in  1819  a 

249 


250  JOUKNAL.  [SEPT. 

September  3. — Made  up  my  necessary  task  for  yesterday 
and  to-day  also,  but  not  more,  writing  very  heavily.  Cousin 
Archie  Swinton  came  to  dinner.  We  had  a  dish  of  cousinred 
of  course — and  of  auld  lang  syne.  * 

September  4. — Archie  Swinton  left  us  this  morning  early. 
I  wrote  from  seven  to  half-past  two ;  but,  partly  that  I  had 
five  proof-sheets  to  correct,  partly  that  like  old  John  Eraser 2 
"  I  was  not  very  cleever  to-day,"  I  made  out  but  a  page 
and  a  half. 

September  5. — Wrote  task  and  half  a  page  more.  Terry 
arrived  and  brought  with  him  a  Mr.  Bruce,  from  Persia, 
with  an  introduction,  forsooth,  from  Mr.  Blackwood.  I  will 
move  a  quo  warranto  against  this  species  of  introduction ; 
and  the  good  gentleman  is  to  be  here,  he  informs  me,  for  two 
days.  He  is  a  dark,  foreign-looking  man,  of  small  stature, 
and  rather  blunt  manners,  which  may  be  easily  accounted 
for  by  his  having  been  in  the  East  for  thirty  years.  He  has 
a  considerable  share  of  information,  and  made  good  play 
after  dinner. 

September  6. — Walter  being  to  return  to  Ireland  for  three 
weeks  set  off  to-day,  and  has  taken  Surtees  and  Charles 
with  him.  I  fear  this  is  but  a  wild  plan,  but  the  prospect 
seemed  to  make  them  so  happy  that  I  could  not  find  in  my 
heart  to  say  "  No  "  sufficiently  peremptorily.  So  away  they 
all  went  this  morning  to  be  as  happy  as  they  can.  Youth  is 
a  fine  carver  and  gilder.  Went  down  to  Huntly  Burn,  and 
dawdled  about  while  waiting  for  the  carriage  to  bring  me 
back.  Mr.  Bruce  and  Colonel  Ferguson  pottered  away 
about  Persia  and  India,  and  I  fell  asleep  by  the  fireside. 
Here  is  a  fine  spate  of  work — a  day  diddled  away,  and 
nothing  to  show  for  it !  I  must  write  letters  now,  there  is 

1  For  an  account  of  this  family  friend  Swinton  in  1814,  Scott  says 
see  The  Sivintons  of  that  Ilk  and  that  he  had  been  reading  the  family 
their  Cadets,  4to,  1883,  a  privately  pedigree  "  to  my  exceeding  refresh- 
printed  volume  by  A.  C.  Swinton  of  ment. " 
Kimmerghame.     In  a  letter  to  his  2  One  of  the  Abbotsford  labourers. 


1826.J  JOUENAL.  251 

nothing  else  for  it.  But — yaw — yaw — I  must  take  a  nap 
first.  I  had  a  letter  from  Jem  Ballantyne,  plague  on  him ! 
full  of  remonstrance,  deep  and  solemn,  upon  the  carelessness 
of  Bonaparte.  The  rogue  is  right  too.  But  as  to  correcting 
my  style  to  the 

"  Jemmy  jemmy  linkum  feedle  " 

tune  of  what  is  called  fine  writing,  I'll  be  d — d  if  I  do. 
Drew  £12  in  favour  of  Charles  for  his  Irish  jaunt;  same 
time  exhorted  him  to  make  himself  as  expensive  to  Walter, 
in  the  way  of  eating  and  drinking,  as  he  could.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Impey  arrived  to  dinner. 

September  7. — Mr.  Bruce,  the  bastinadoed,  left  us  this 
morning  promising  wine  from  Shiraz  and  arms  from  India. 
From  our  joint  observation  he  must  be  a  half-caste,  probably 
half  an  Arab.  He  told  us  of  his  having  been  taken  by  pirates 
in  the  Arabian  Gulf,  and  having  received  two  thousand 
bastinadoes  on  the  soles  of  his  feet,  after  which  he  was  buried 
in  a  heap  of  dung  by  way  of  cure.  Though  the  matter  was 
certainly  serious  enough  to  the  sufferer,  yet  it  excited  our 
suppressed,  or  scarce  suppressed,  mirth.  Alas !  let  never 
traveller  tell  any  distress  which  borders  on  the  ludicrous  if 
he  desires  to  excite  the  sympathy  of  the  audience. 

Another  thing  he  mentioned  was  the  mode  of  seasoning 
timber  for  shipbuilding  in  the  Arabian  Gulf.  They  bury  it 
in  the  sand  within  water-mark,  and  leave  it  exposed  to  the 
flux  and  reflux  of  the  tide  for  six  months  at  least,  but  often 
for  twelve  or  eighteen.  The  tendency  to  vegetation  which 
produces  the  dry-rot  is  thus  prevented  effectually,  and  the 
ships  built  of  this  wood  last  for  twenty  years. 

We  drove  to  Ashestiel  in  the  morning,  after  I  had 
written  a  good  task,  or  nearly  so  (nay,  I  lie,  it  wanted  half  a 
page),  and  passed  a  pleasant  day.  Terry  read  Bdbadil  in  the 
evening,  which  he  has,  I  think,  improved. 

September  8. — I  have  rubbed  up,  by  collation  with  Mr. 
Impey,  Sir  Frederick  Adam's  idea  of  the  Greeks.  He 


25-2  JOURNAL.  [SEPT. 

deeply  regrets  the  present  war  as  premature,  undertaken 
before  knowledge  and  rational  education  had  extended 
themselves  sufficiently.  The  neighbourhood  of  the  Ionian 
Islands  was  fast  producing  civilisation ;  and  as  knowledge  is 
power,  it  is  clear  that  the  example  of  Europeans,  and  the 
opportunities  of  education  thereby  afforded,  must  soon  have 
given  them  an  immense  superiority  over  the  Turk.  This 
premature  war  has  thrown  all  back  into  a  state  of  barbarism. 
It  was  precipitated  by  the  agents  of  Eussia.  Sir  Frederick 
spoke  most  highly  of  Byron,  the  soundness  of  his  views,  the 
respect  in  which  he  was  held — his  just  ideas  of  the  Grecian 
cause  and  character,  and  the  practical  and  rational  wishes 
which  he  formed  for  them.  Singular  that  a  man  whose 
conduct  in  his  own  personal  affairs  had  been  anything  but 
practical  should  be  thus  able  to  stand  by  the  helm  of  a 
sinking  state !  Sir  Frederick  thinks  he  might  have  done 
much  for  them  if  he  had  lived.  The  rantipole  friends  of 
liberty,  who  go  about  freeing  nations  with  the  same  success 
which  Don  Quixote  had  in  redressing  wrongs,  have,  of 
course,  blundered  everything  which  they  touched.  The 
Impeys  left  us  to-day,  and  Captain  Hugh  Scott  and  his  lady 
arrived.  Task  is  bang-up. 

September  9. — I  begin  to  fear  Nap.  will  swell  to  seven 
volumes.  I  have  a  long  letter  from  James  B.  threatening 
me  with  eight ;  but  that  is  impossible.  The  event  of  his 
becoming  Emperor  is  the  central  point  of  his  history. 
Now  I  have  just  attained  it,  and  it  is  the  centre  of  the  third 
volume.  Two  volumes  and  a  half  may  be  necessary  to 
complete  the  whole.  Walked  with  Hugh  Scott  up  the 
Rhymer's  Glen,  and  round  by  the  lake.  Mr.  Bainbridge  of 
Gattonside  House  dined,  also  Colonel  Ferguson.  Was 
bang  up  to  my  task  again  this  day. 

September  10. — Corrected  proof-sheets  in  the  morning, 
then  immured  myself  to  write,  the  more  willingly  that  the 
day  seemed  showery;  but  I  found  myself  obliged  to  read 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  253 

and  study  the  map  so  much  that  I  did  not  get  over  half  a 
sheet  written.  Walked  with  Hugh  Scott  through  Haxell 
Cleuch.  Great  pleasure  to  show  the  young  wood  to  any 
who  understands  them  well. 

September  11. — Jane  and  her  mother  go  into  town  this 
morning,  and  Anne  with  them,  to  look  out  a  lodging  for  us 
during  the  time  we  must  pass  in  town.  It  seems  strange  to 
have  this  to  do,  having  had  always  my  father's  house  or  my 
own  to  go  to.  But — Sic  transit  gloria  mundi. 

Well,  it  is  half-past  twelve  o'clock,  and  at  length  having 
regulated  all  disappointments  as  to  post-horses,  and  sent 
three  or  four  servants  three  or  four  miles  to  remedy  blunders, 
which  a  little  forethought  might  have  prevented,  my  family 
and  guests  are  separated — 

"  Like  youthful  steers  let  loose,  east,  north,  and  south."1 

Miss  Miln  goes  to  Stirling;  the  Scotts  to  Lessudden; 
Anne  and  Jane  to  Edinburgh ;  and  I  am  left  alone.  I  must 
needs  go  up  and  see  some  operations  about  the  spring  which 
supplies  us  with  water,  though  I  calculate  my  presence  is 
not  very  necessary.  So  now — to  work — to  work. 

But  I  reckoned  without  my  host,  or,  I  should  rather  say, 
without  my  guest.  Just  as  I  had  drawn  in  my  chair,  fitted 
a  new  "  Bramah  "  on  the  stick,  and  was  preparing  to  feague 
it  away,  I  had  a  call  from  the  son  of  an  old  friend,  Mr. 
Waldie  of  Henderland.  As  he  left  me,  enter  young  Whyt- 
bank  and  Mr.  Auriol  Hay 2  of  the  Lyon  Office,  and  we  had 
a  long  armorial  chat  together,  which  lasted  for  some  time — 
then  the  library  was  to  be  looked  at,  etc.  So,  when  they  went 
away,  I  had  little  better  to  do  than  to  walk  up  to  the  spring 

1  2  Henry  IV.  Act  iv.  Sc.  2.  a  great  interest  in  archaeological 

matters,  and  was  for  two  years 

3  Mr.  E.  W.  Auriol  Drummond  Secretary  to  the  Society  of  Anti- 
Hay,  heir-presumptive  at  one  time  quaries  before  his  departure  as 
of  Lord  Kinnoul,  was  then  residing  Consul  General  to  the  Barbary 
in  Edinburgh,  owing  to  his  official  States.  He  died  at  Tangier  on  the 
duties  in  the  Lyon  Office  ;  he  took  1st  March  1S4;>. 


254  JOUKNAL.  [SEPT, 

which  they  are  digging,  and  to  go  to  my  solitary  dinner  on 
my  return. 

September  12. — Notwithstanding  what  is  above  said, 
I  made  out  my  task  yesterday,  or  nearly  so,  by  working 
after  dinner.  After  all,  these  interruptions  are  not  such 
bad  things ;  they  make  a  man  keen  of  the  work  which  he 
is  withheld  from,  and  differ  in  that  point  much  from  the 
indulgence  of  an  indisposition  to  labour  in  your  own  mind, 
which  increases  by  indulgence.  Lesfdcheux  seldom  interrupt 
your  purpose  absolutely  and  entirely — you  stick  to  it  for 
contradiction's  sake. 

Well,  I  visited  the  spring  in  the  morning,  and  com- 
pleted my  task  afterwards.  As  I  slept  for  a  few  minutes  in 
my  chair,  to  which  I  am  more  addicted  than  I  could  wish, 
I  heard,  as  I  thought,  my  poor  wife  call  me  by  the  familiar 
name  of  fondness  which  she  gave  me.  My  recollections  on 
waking  were  melancholy  enough.  These  be 

"  The  airy  tongues  that  syllable  men's  names."1 
All,  I  believe,  have  some  natural  desire  to  consider  these 
unusual  impressions  as  bodements  of  good  or  evil  to  come. 
But  alas!  this  is  a  prejudice  of  our  own  conceit.  They 
are  the  empty  echoes  of  what  is  past,  not  the  foreboding 
voice  of  what  is  to  come. 

I  dined  at  the  Club  to-day  at  Selkirk,  and  acted  as 
croupier.  There  were  eighteen  dined;  young  men  chiefly, 
and  of  course  young  talk.  But  so  it  has  been,  will  be,  and 
must  be. 

September  1 3. — Wrote  my  task  in  the  morning,  and  there- 
after had  a  letter  from  that  sage  Privy  Councillor  and  booby 

of  a  Baronet, .     This  unutterable  idiot  proposes  to  me 

that  I   shall    propose   to   the  Dowager  Duchess   of  , 

and  offers  his  own  right  honourable  intervention  to  bring 
so  beautiful  a  business  to  bear.  I  am  struck  dumb  with 
the  assurance  of  his  folly — absolutely  mute  and  speechless 

i  Milton's  Comwt,  v.  208. — J.  G.  L. 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  255 

— and  how  to  prevent  him  making  me  further  a  fool  is  not 
easy,  for  the  wretch  has  left  me  no  time  to  assure  him  of  the 
absurdity  of  what  he  proposes ;  and  if  he  should  ever  hint  at 
such  a  piece  of  d — d  impertinence,  what  must  the  lady  think 
of  my  conceit  or  of  my  feelings !  I  will  write  to  his  present 
quarters,  however,  that  he  may,  if  possible,  have  warning 
not  to  continue  this  absurdity.1 

Dined  at  Major  Scott,  my  cousin's,  where  was  old  Lord 
Buchan.  He,  too,  is  a  prince  of  Bores,  but  age  has  tamed 
him  a  little,  and  like  the  giant  Pope  in  the  Pilgrim's  Progress, 
he  can  only  sit  and  grin  at  Pilgrims  as  they  go  past,  and 
is  not  able  to  cast  a  fank2  over  them  as  formerly.  A  few 
quiet  puns  seem  his  most  formidable  infliction  nowadays. 

September  14. — I  should  not  have  forgotten,  among  the 
memorabilia  of  yesterday,  that  Mr.  Nasmyth,  the  dentist,  and 
his  family  called,  and  I  showed  them  the  lions,  for  truly  he 
that  has  rid  a  man  of  the  toothache  is  well  entitled  to  com- 
mand a  part  of  his  time.  Item,  two  young  Frenchmen  made 
their  way  to  our  sublime  presence  in  guerdon  of  a  laudatory 
copy  of  French  verses  sent  up  the  evening  before,  by  way  of 
"Open  Sesame,"  I  suppose.  I  have  not  read  them,  nor 
shall  I.  No  man  that  ever  wrote  a  line  despised  the  pap  of 
praise  so  heartily  as  I  do.  There  is  nothing  I  scorn  more, 
except  those  who  think  the  ordinary  sort  of  praise  or  censure 
is  matter  of  the  least  consequence.  People  have  almost 
always  some  private  view  of  distinguishing  themselves,  or 
of  gratifying  their  curiosity — some  point,  in  short,  to  carry, 
with  which  you  have  no  relation,  when  they  take  the  trouble 
to  praise  you.  In  general,  it  is  their  purpose  to  get  the  person 
praised  to  puff  away  in  return.  To  me  their  rank  praises  no 

1  Lady  Scott  had  not  been  quite  any  intimacy.      This  was  not  ths 

four  months  dead,   and  the  entry  only  proposition  of  the  kind   that 

of  the  preceding  day  shows  how  reached  him  during  his  widowhood, 

extremely  ill-timed  was  this  com-  — j.  G.  L. 
inunication  from  a  gentleman  with 

whom  Sir  Walter  had  never  had  -  A  coil  of  rope. 


256  JOURNAL.  [SEPT. 

more  make  amends  for  their  bad  poetry  than  tainted  butter 
would  pass  off  stale  fish. 

September  1 5. — Many  proofs  to  correct  and  dates  to  com- 
pare. What  signify  dates  in  a  true  story  ?  I  was  fidgety 
after  breakfast,  owing  to  perusing  some  advices  from  J. 
Gibson,  poor  fellow.  I  will  not  be  discouraged,  come  of 
things  what  will.  However,  I  could  not  write  continuously, 
but  went  out  by  starts,  and  amused  myself  by  cutting  trees 
in  the  avenue.  Thus  I  dawdled  till  Anne  and  Jane  came 
home  with  merry  faces,  and  raised  my  spirits  of  course. 
Alter  tea  I  e'en  took  heart  of  grace  and  finished  my  task, 
as  I  now  do  this  day's  journal. 

September  16. — Worked  hard  to-day,  and  in  morning  and 
evening  made  out  five  pages  and  a  half,  as  much  perhaps  as 
one  should  attempt,  yet  I  was  not  overworked.  On  the 
contrary,  went  out  with  Tom  about  one  o'clock  and  cut 
trees,  etc.,  to  clear  the  avenue;  and  favour  the  growth  of 
such  trees  as  are  designed  for  standards.  I  received  visits 
too — the  Laird  of  Bemerside,1  who  had  been  for  nine  years 
in  Italy  with  his  family — also  the  Laird  of  Kippielaw. 
Anne  and  Jane  drove  up  and  called  at  the  Haining. 

I  expected  James  Ballantyne  to  dinner  as  he  proposed, 
but  the  worthy  typographer  appeared  not.  He  is  sometimes 
inaccurate  in  keeping  such  appointments,  which  is  not  ac- 
cording to  the  "  Academy  of  compliments."  But  in  the 
letter  which  announced  his  intended  visit,  he  talked  of 
having  received  himself  a  visit  from  the  Cholera  Morbus. 
I  shall  be  very  sorry  if  so  unwelcome  a  guest  be  the  cause 
of  the  breach  of  his  appointment. 

September  17. — Rather  surprised  with  a  letter  from  Lord 
Melville,  informing  me  that  he  and  Mr.  Peel  had  put  me 
into  the  Commission  for  inquiring  into  the  condition  of  the 
Colleges  in  Scotland.  I  know  little  on  the  subject,  but  I  dare 

1  See  Life,  vol.  x.  95,  and  The  ffaigs  of  £emer,tyde,  8vo,  Edin.   1881, 
edited  by  J.  Russell. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  257 

say  as  much  as  some  of  the  official  persons  who  are  inserted 
of  course.  The  want  of  efficient  men  is  the  reason  alleged.  I 
must  of  course  do  my  best,  though  I  have  little  hope  of  being 
useful,  and  the  time  it  will  occupy  is  half  ruinous  to  me,  to 
whom  time  is  everything.  Besides,  T  suppose  the  honour  is 
partly  meant  as  an  act  of  grace  for  Malachi.  I  shall  never 
repent  of  that  escapade,  although  it  offended  persons  for  the 
time  whose  good  opinion  I  value.  J.  B.  continues  ill  at  Teviot 
Grove,  as  they  call  it.  I  am  a  little  anxious  about  him. 

I  finished  my  task  and  an  extra  page — hope  to  do  another 
before  supper.  Accomplished  the  said  diligent  purpose. 

September  18. — Rainy  and  gloomy — that  small  sifting  rain 
driving  on  an  eastern  gale  which  intermits  not.  Wrote 
letters  to  Lord  Melville,  etc,  and  agreed  to  act  under  the 
Commission.  Settled  to  be  at  Melville  Castle,  Saturday  24th. 
I  fear  this  will  interfere  consumedly  with  business.  I  cor- 
rected proof-sheets,  and  wrote  a  good  deal,  but  intend  to 
spend  the  rest  of  the  day  in  reading  and  making  notes. 
No  bricks  to  be  made  without  straw. 

[Jedburgh,]  September  19. — Circuit.  Went  to  poor  Mr. 
Shortreed's,  and  regretted  bitterly  the  distress  of  the  family, 
though  they  endeavoured  to  bear  it  bravely,  and  to  make  my 
reception  as  comfortable  and  even  cheerful  as  possible. 
My  old  friend  R.  S.  gave  me  a  ring  found  in  a  grave  at  the 
Abbey,  to  be  kept  in  memory  of  his  son.  I  will  certainly 
preserve  it  with  especial  care.1 

Many  trifles  at  circuit,  chiefly  owing  to  the  cheap  whisky, 
as  they  were  almost  all  riots.  One  case  of  assault  on 
a  deaf  and  dumb  woman.  She  was  herself  the  chief 
evidence ;  but  being  totally  without  education,  and  having, 
from  her  situation,  very  imperfect  notions  of  a  Deity,  and  a 
future  state,  no  oath  could  be  administered.  Mr.  Kinni- 
burgh,  teacher  of  the  deaf  and  dumb,  was  sworn  interpreter, 

1  Mr.  Thomas  Shortreed,  a  young  Sir  Walter,  and  much  beloved 
gentleman  of  elegant  taste  and  in  return,  had  recently  died. — 
attainments,  devotedly  attached  to  J.  c.  i.. 

II 


258  JOUKNAL.  [SEPT. 

together  with  another  person,  a  neighbour,  who  knew  the 
accidental  or  conventional  signs  which  the  poor  thing  had 
invented  for  herself,  as  Mr.  K.  was  supposed  to  understand 
the  more  general  or  natural  signs  common  to  people  in 
such  a  situation.  He  went  through  the  task  with  much 
address,  and  it  was  wonderful  to  see  them  make  themselves 
intelligible  to  each  other  by  mere  pantomime.  Still  I  did 
[not]  consider  such  evidence  as  much  to  be  trusted  to  in  a 
criminal  case.  Several  previous  interviews  had  been  neces- 
sary between  the  interpreter  and  the  witness,  and  this  is 
very  much  like  getting  up  a  story.  Some  of  the  signs,  brief 
in  themselves,  of  which  Mr.  K.  gave  long  interpretations, 
put  me  in  mind  of  Lord  Burleigh  in  the  Critic:  "Did  he 
mean  all  this  by  the  shake  of  the  head?"  "Yes,  if  he 
shook  his  head  as  I  taught  him."  *  The  man  was  found  not 
guilty.  Mr.  K.  told  us  of  a  pupil  of  his  whom  he  restored, 
as  it  may  be  said,  to  humanity,  and  who  told  him  that  his 
ideas  of  another  world  were  that  some  great  person  in  the 
skies  lighted  up  the  sun  in  the  morning  as  he  saw  his  mother 
light  her  fire,  and  the  stars  in  the  evening  as  she  kindled  a 
lamp.  He  said  the  witness  had  ideas  of  truth  and  falsehood, 
which  was,  I  believe,  true;  and  that  she  had  an  idea  of 
punishment  in  a  future  state,  which  I  doubt.  He  confessed 
she  could  not  give  any  guess  at  its  duration,  whether 
temporary  or  eternal.  I  should  like  to  know  if  Mr.  K.  is 
in  that  respect  much  wiser  than  his  pupils.  Dined,  of 
course,  with  Lord  Mackenzie,  the  Judge. 

September  20. — Waked  after  a  restless  night,  in  which  I 
dreamed  of  poor  Tom  Shortreed.  Breakfasted  with  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Somerville.2  This  venerable  gentleman  is  one  of  the 

1  See  Act  in.  Sc.  ^  other  works,  died  14th  May  1830,  in 

the  ninetieth  year  of  his  age,  and 

8  The  Rev.  Dr.  Thomas  Somer-  sixty-fourth  of  his  ministry. — j.o.  L. 
ville,  minister  of  Jedburgh,  author  Autobiographical  Memorials  of  his 
of  the  History  of  Great  Britain  Life  and  Times,  1741-1814,  8vo, 
during  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne,  and  Edinburgh,  were  published  in  1861. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  259 

oldest  of  the  literary  brotherhood  —  I  suppose  about  eighty- 
seven,  and  except  a  little  deafness  quite  entire.  Living 
all  his  life  in  good  society  as  a  gentleman  born  —  and 
having,  besides,  professional  calls  to  make  among  the  poor  — 
he  must  know,  of  course,  much  that  is  curious  concerning 
the  momentous  changes  which  have  passed  under  his  eyes. 
He  talks  of  them  accordingly,  and  has  written  something 
on  the  subject,  but  has  scarce  the  force  necessary  to  seize 
on  the  most  striking  points,  "paldbras,  neighbour  Verges,"1 
—  gifts  which  God  gives.  The  bowl  that  rolls  easiest  along 
the  green  goes  furthest,  and  has  least  clay  sticking  to  it. 
I  have  often  noticed  that  a  kindly,  placid  good-humour  is 
the  companion  of  longevity,  and,  I  suspect,  frequently  the 
leading  cause  of  it.  Quick,  keen,  sharp  observation,  with 
the  power  of  contrast  and  illustration,  disturbs  this  easy 
current  of  thought.  My  good  friend,  the  venerable  Doctor, 
will  not,  I  think,  die  of  that  disease. 

Called  at  Nesbit  Mill  on  my  cousin  Charles.  His  wife 
received  me  better  than  I  deserved,  for  I  have  been  a  sad 
neglectful  visitor.  She  has  a  very  pleasant  countenance. 

Some  of  the  Circuit  lawyers  dined  here,  namely  R.  Dundas, 
Borthwick,  the  facetious  Peter  Robertson,2  Mr.  R  Adam 
Dundas,  and  with  them.  Henry  Scott  of  Harden. 

September  21.  —  Our  party  breakfasted  late,  and  I  was 
heavy-headed,  and  did  not  rise  till  eight.  Had  drank  a 
little  more  wine  than  usual,  but  as  our  friend  Othello  says, 
"  that  's  not  much."  3  However,  we  dawdled  about  till  near 
noon  ere  all  my  guests  left  me.  Then  I  walked  a  little  and 
cut  some  wood.  Read  afterwards.  I  can't  get  on  without 

1  Much  Ado  about  Nothing,  Act     wrote  the  sportive  lines  :  — 

III.  be.  5.  "  Here  lies  that  peerless  paper  peer  Lord 

2  Afterwards  Judge  in  the  Court  Peter, 

of    Session    from    1843,    author   of  Who  broke  the  laws  of  God  and  man 


Gleams  of   Thought  reflected  from  and  metre." 

Milton,  etc.     It  was  of  this  witty      Lord  Robertson  died  in  1855. 

and  humorous  judge  Mr.  Lockhart         3  Act  in.  Sc.  3. 


280  JOUENAL.  [SEPT. 

it.  How  did  I  get  on  before  ? — that 's  a  secret.  Mr.  Thomas 
Tod l  and  his  wife  came  to  dine.  We  talked  of  old  stories 
and  got  over  a  pleasant  evening. 

September  22. — Still  no  writing.  We  have  materials  to 
collect.  D — n  you,  Mother  Duty,  hold  your  tongue !  I  tell 
you,  you  know  nothing  of  the  matter.  Besides,  I  corrected 
five  sheets.  I  wish  you  had  to  do  with  some  other  people, 
just  to  teach  you  the  difference.  I  grant  that  the  day  being 
exquisite  I  went  and  thinned  out  the  wood  from  the  north 
front  of  the  house.  Eead  and  noted  a  great  deal. 

September  23. — Wrought  in  the  morning,  but  only  at  read- 
ing and  proofs.  That  cursed  battle  of  Jena  is  like  to  cost  me 
more  time  than  it  did  Bonaparte  to  gain  it.  I  met  Colonel 
Ferguson  about  one,  to  see  his  dogs  run.  It  is  a  sport  I  have 
loved  well,  but  now,  I  know  not  why,  I  find  it  little  inter- 
esting. To  be  sure  I  used  to  gallop,  and  that  I  cannot  now 
do.  We  had  good  sport,  however,  and  killed  five  hares.  I 
felt  excited  during  the  chase,  but  the  feeling  was  but 
momentary.  My  mind  was  immediately  turned  to  other  re- 
membrances, and  to  pondering  upon  the  change  which  had 
taken  place  in  my  own  feelings.  The  day  was  positively 
heavenly,  and  the  wild  hillside,  with  our  little  coursing 
party,  was  beautiful  to  look  at.  Yet  I  felt  like  a  man  come 
from  the  dead,  looking  with  indifference  on  that  which  in- 
terested him  while  living.  So  it  must  be 

"  When  once  life's  day  is  near  the  gloaming."  2 

We  dined  at  Huntly  Burn.  Kind  and  comfortable  as  usual. 
September  24. — I  made  a  rally  to-day  and  wrote  four 
pages,  or  nearly.  Never  stirred  abroad  the  whole  day,  but 
was  made  happy  after  dinner  by  the  return  of  Charles  and 
Surtees  full  of  their  Irish  jaunt,  and  happy  as  young  men 
are  with  the  change  of  scene.  To-morrow  I  must  go  to 
Melville  Castle.  I  wonder  what  I  can  do  or  say  about  these 

1  One  of  Scott's  old  High  School  mates. — Life,  vol.  i.  p.  163. 
3  Burns's  Epistle  to  J.  Smith. 


1826.]  JOUBNAL.  261 

Universities.  One  thing  occurs — the  distribution  of  bur- 
saries only  ex  meritis.  That  is,  I  would  have  the  presenta- 
tions continue  in  the  present  patrons,  but  exact  that  those 
presented  should  be  qualified  by  success  in  their  literary 
attainments  and  distinction  acquired  at  school  to  hold  these 
scholarships.  This  seems  to  be  following  out  the  idea  of  the 
founders,  who,  doubtless,  intended  the  furthering  of  good 
literature.  To  give  education  to  dull  mediocrity  is  a  fling- 
ing of  the  children's  bread  to  dogs — it  is  sharpening  a  hatchet 
on  a  razor-strop,  which  renders  the  strop  useless,  and  does 
no  good  to  the  hatchet.  Well,  something  we  will  do. 

September  25. — Morning  spent  in  making  up  proofs  and 
copy.  Set  out  for  Melville  Castle  with  Jane,  who  goes  on 
to  her  mother  at  Edinburgh. 

Found  Lord  and  Lady  M.  in  great  distress.  Their  son 
Eobert  is  taken  ill  at  a  Eussian  town  about  350  miles  from 
Moscow — dangerously  ill.  The  distance  increases  the 
extreme  distress  of  the  parents,  who,  however,  bore  it  like 
themselves.  I  was  glad  to  spend  a  day  upon  the  old  terms 
with  such  old  friends,  and  believe  my  being  with  them,  even 
in  this  moment  of  painful  suspense,  as  it  did  not  diminish 
the  kindness  of  my  reception,  certainly  rather  seemed  to 
divert  them  from  the  cruel  subject. 

Dr.  Nicoll,  Principal  of  St.  Andrews,  dined — a  very 
gentlemanlike  sensible  man.  We  spoke  of  the  visitation, 
of  granting  degrees,  of  public  examinations,  of  abolishing 
the  election  of  professors  by  the  Senatus  Academicus  (a  most 
pregnant  source  of  jobs),  and  much  beside — but  all  desultory 
— and  Lord  M.  had*  either  nothing  particular  to  say  to  me, 
or  was  too  much  engrossed  with  his  family  distress  to  enter 
upon  it.  He  proposes  to  be  here  in  the  end  of  October. 

September  26. — Eeturned  to  Abbotsford  after  breakfast. 
Here  is  a  cool  thing  of  my  friend  J.  W.  C[roker].  The 
Duke  of  Clarence,  dining  at  the  Pavilion  with  the  King, 
happened  by  choice  or  circumstance  to  sit  lower  than  usual 


262  JOUENAL.  [SEPT. 

at  the  table,  and  being  at  that  time  on  bad  terms  with  the 
Board  of  Admiralty,  took  an  opportunity  to  say,  that  were 
he  king  he  would  do  all  that  away,  and  assume  the  office 
of  Lord  High  Admiral.  "Your  E.H.  may  act  with  great 
prudence,"  said  C[roker].  "The  last  monarch  who  did  so 
was  James  n."  Presently  after  H.M.  asked  what  they  were 
talking  of.  "  It 's  only  his  E.H.  of  C.,"  answered  C[roker], 
"  who  is  so  condescending  as  to  tell  us  what  he  will  do  when 
he  is  king." 

A  long  letter  from  E.  P.  Gillies.  I  wonder  how  even 
he  could  ask  me  to  announce  myself  as  the  author  of 
Annotations  on  German  Novels  which  he  is  to  write. 

September  27. — A  day  of  honest  labour — but  having 
much  to  read,  proofs  to  send  off,  etc.,  I  was  only  able  to 
execute  my  task  by  three  o'clock  P.M.  Then  I  went  to  direct 
the  cutting  of  wood  along  the  road  in  front  of  the  house. 
Dined  at  Chiefswood  with  Captain  and  Mrs.  Hamilton, 
Lady  Lucy  Whitmore,  their  guest,  and  neighbours  from 
Gattonside  and  Huntly  Burn. 

September  28. — Another  hard  brush,  and  finished  four 
pages  by  twelve  o'clock,  then  drove  out  to  Cowdenknowes, 
for  a  morning  visit.  The  house  is  ancient  and  curious, 
though  modernised  by  vile  improvements  of  a  modern  roof 
and  windows.  The  inhabited  part  has  over  the  principal 
door  the  letters  S.  I.  H.  V.  I.  H.  The  first  three  indicate 
probably  Sir  John  Hume,  but  what  are  we  to  make  of  the 
rest  ?  I  will  look  at  them  more  needfully  one  day.  There 
is  a  large  room  said  to  have  been  built  for  the  reception  of 
Queen  Mary ;  if  so,  it  has  been  much  modernised.  The  date 
on  the  door  is  1576,  which  would  [not]  bear  out  the  tradition. 
The  last  two  letters  probably  signify  Lady  Hume's  name, 
but  what  are  we  to  make  of  the  F?  Dr.  Hume  thinks  it 
means  Uxor,  but  why  should  that  word  be  in  Latin  and  the 
rest  in  Scotch  ? 

Eeturned  to  dinner,  corrected  proofs,  and  hope  still  to 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  263 

finish  another  leaf,  being  in  light  working  humour.  Finished 
the  same  accordingly. 

[Abbotsford,]  September  29. — A  sort  of  zeal  of  working 
has  seized  me,  which  I  must  avail  myself  of.  No  dejec- 
tion of  mind,  and  no  tremor  of  nerves,  for  which  God  be 
humbly  thanked.  My  spirits  are  neither  low  nor  high — 
grave,  I  think,  and  quiet — a  complete  twilight  of  the  mind. 

Good  news  of  John  Lockhart  from  Lady  Montagu,  who 
most  kindly  wrote  on  that  interesting  topic. 

I  wrote  five  pages,  nearly  a  double  task,  yet  wandered 
for  three  hours,  axe  in  hand,  superintending  the  thinning  of 
the  home  planting.  That  does  good  too.  I  feel  it  give 
steadiness  to  my  mind.  Women,  it  is  said,  go  mad  much 
seldomer  than  men.  I  fancy,  if  this  be  true,  it  is  in  some 
degree  owing  to  the  little  manual  works  in  which  they  are 
constantly  employed,  which  regulate  in  some  degree  the 
current  of  ideas,  as  the  pendulum  regulates  the  motion  of 
the  timepiece.  I  do  not  know  if  this  is  sense  or  nonsense, 
but  I  am  sensible  that  if  I  were  in  solitary  confinement, 
without  either  the  power  of  taking  exercise  or  employing 
myself  in  study,  six  months  would  make  me  a  madman  or 
an  idiot. 

September  30. — Wrote  four  pages.  Honest  James 
Ballantyne  came  about  five.  I  had  been  cutting  wood  for 
two  hours.  He  brought  his  child,  a  remarkably  fine  boy, 
well-bred,  quiet,  and  amiable.  James  and  I  had  a  good 
comfortable  chat,  the  boys  being  at  Gattonside  House.  I  am 
glad  to  see  him  bear  up  against  misfortune  like  a  man. 
"  Bread  we  shall  eat,  or  white  or  brown,"  that 's  the  moral 
of  it,  Master  Muggins. 


OCTOBER 

October  1. — Wrote  my  task,  then  walked  from  one  till 
half-past  four.  Dogs  took  a  hare.  They  always  catch  one 
on  Sunday — a  Puritan  would  say  the  devil  was  in  them.  I 
think  I  shall  get  more  done  this  evening.  I  would  fain  con- 
clude the  volume  at  the  Treaty  of  Tilsit,  which  will  make  it 
a  pretty  long  one,  by  the  by.  J.  B.  expressed  himself  much 
pleased  with  Nap.,  which  gives  me  much  courage.  He  is 
gloomy  enough  when  things  are  not  well.  And  then  I  will 
try  something  at  my  Canongate.  They  talk  about  the 
pitcher  going  to  the  well;  but  if  it  goes  not  to  the  well, 
how  shall  we  get  water  ?  It  will  bring  home  none  when 
it  stands  on  the  shelf,  I  trow.  In  literature,  as  in  love, 
courage  is  half  the  battle. 

"  The  public  born  to  be  controlled 
Stoops  to  the  forward  and  the  bold." 

October  2. — Wrote  my  task.  Went  out  at  one  and 
wrought  in  the  wood  till  four.  I  was  made  happy  by  a 
letter  from  my  nephew,  little  Walter,  as  we  used  to  call  him, 
from  his  age  and  size,  compared  to  those  of  his  cousin.  He 
has  been  kindly  received  at  Bombay  by  the  Governor  Mount- 
stuart  Elphinstone,  and  by  Sir  Thomas  Bradford.  He  is 
taking  his  ground,  I  think,  prudently,  and  is  likely  to  get 
on.  Already  first  Lieutenant  of  Engineers — that  is  well  to 
begin  with. 

Colonel  Ferguson,  Miss  Margaret,  and  some  ladies, 
friends  of  theirs,  dine,  also  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Laidlaw,  and  James 
Laidlaw,  and  young  Mr.  N.  Milne. 

October  3. — I  wrote  my  task  as  usual,  but,  strange  to  tell, 
there  is  a  want  of  paper.  I  expect  some  to-day.  In  the 

264 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  265 

meantime,  to  avoid  all  quarrel  with  Dame  Duty,  I  cut  up 
some  other  leaves  into  the  usual  statutory  size.  They  say  of 
a  fowl  that  if  you  draw  a  chalk  line  on  a  table,  and  lay 
chick-a-diddle  down  with  his  bill  upon  it,  the  poor  thing 
will  imagine  himself  opposed  by  an  insurmountable  barrier, 
which  he  will  not  attempt  to  cross.  Suchlike  are  one-half  of 
the  obstacles  which  serve  to  interrupt  our  best  resolves,  and 
such  is  my  pretended  want  of  paper.  It  is  like  Sterne's 
want  of  sows  when  he  went  to  relieve  the  Pauvre  Honteux. 

October  4. — I  ought  to  record  with  gratitude  to  God 
Almighty  the  continued  health  of  body  and  mind,  which 
He  hath  vouchsafed  to  grant  me.  I  have  had  of  late  no 
accesses  either  of  bile  or  of  nervous  affection,  and  by  mixing 
exercise  with  literary  labour,  I  have  escaped  the  tremor 
cordis  which  on  other  occasions  has  annoyed  me  cruelly.  I 
went  to  the  inspection  of  the  Selkirkshire  Yeomanry,  by 
Colonel  Thornhill,  7th  Hussars.  The  Colonel  is  a  remark- 
ably fine-looking  man,  and  has  a  good  address.  His  brow 
bears  token  of  the  fatigues  of  war.  He  is  a  great  falconer, 
and  has  promised  to  fly  his  hawks  on  Friday  for  my  amuse- 
ment, and  to  spend  the  day  at  Abbotsford.  The  young  Duke 
of  B.  was  on  the  field  looking  at  the  corps,  most  of  whom 
are  his  tenants.  They  did  very  well,  and  are  fine,  smart 
young  men,  and  well  mounted.  Too  few  of  them  though, 
which  is  a  pity.  The  exercise  is  a  work  which  in  my  time 
I  have  loved  well. 

Finished  my  task  at  night. 

October  5. — I  was  thinking  this  morning  that  my  time 
glided  away  in  a  singularly  monotonous  manner,  like  one  of 
those  dark  grey  days  which  neither  promise  sunshine  nor 
threaten  rain ;  too  melancholy  for  enjoyment,  too  tranquil 
for  repining.  But  this  day  has  brought  a  change  which 
somewhat  shakes  my  philosophy.  I  find  by  a  letter  from 
J.  Gibson  that  I  may  go  to  London  without  danger,  and  if 
I  may,  I  in  a  manner  must,  to  examine  the  papers  in  the 


266  JOUKNAL.  [OCT. 

Secretary  of  State's  office  about  Bon.  when  at  Saint  Helena. 
The  opportunity  having  been  offered  must  be  accepted,  and 
yet  I  had  much  rather  stay  at  home.  Even  the  prospect  of 
seeing  Sophia  and  Lockhart  must  be  mingled  with  pain,  yet 
this  is  foolish  too.  Lady  Hamilton l  writes  me  that  Pozzo 
di  Borgo,2  the  Eussian  Minister  at  Paris,  is  willing  to  com- 
municate to  me  some  particulars  of  Bonaparte's  early  life. 
Query — might  I  not  go  on  there  ?  In  for  a  penny,  in  for  a 
pound.  I  intend  to  take  Anne  with  me,  and  the  pleasure 
will  be  great  to  her,  who  deserves  much  at  my  hand. 

October  6. — Charles  and  his  friend  Surtees  left  us  this 
morning. 

Went  to  see  Colonel  Thornhill's  hawks  fly.  Some  part 
of  the  amusement  is  very  beautiful,  particularly  the  first 
flight  of  the  hawks,  when  they  sweep  so  beautifully  round 
the  company,  jingling  their  bells  from  time  to  time,  and 
throwing  themselves  into  the  most  elegant  positions  as  they 
gaze  about  for  their  prey.  But  I  do  not  wonder  that  the 
impatience  of  modern  times  has  renounced  this  expensive 
and  precarious  mode  of  sporting.  The  hawks  are  liable  to 
various  misfortunes,  and  are  besides  addicted  to  fly  away ; 
one  of  ours  was  fairly  lost  for  the  day,  and  one  or  two  went 
off  without  permission,  but  returned.  We  killed  a  crow  and 
frightened  a  snipe.  There  are,  however,  ladies  and  gentle- 
men enough  to  make  a  gallant  show  on  the  top  of  Mintlaw 
Kipps.  The  falconer  made  a  fine  figure — a  handsome  and 
active  young  fellow  with  the  falcon  on  his  wrist.  The 
Colonel  was  most  courteous,  and  named  a  hawk  after  me, 
which  was  a  compliment.  The  hawks  are  not  named  till 
they  have  merited  that  distinction.  I  walked  about  six 
miles  and  was  not  fatigued. 

There  dined  with  us  Colonel  Thornhill,  Clifton,  young 

1  Eldest  daughter  of  the  illustri-  -  This  implacable  enemy  of  Na- 

ous  Admiral  Lord  Duncan,  wife  of  poleon,— a  Corsican,   died    in    his 

Sir  Hew  Hamilton  Dalrymple.    She  seventy-fourth  year  in  1842. 
died  in  1852. 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  267 

Whytbank,  Spencer  Stanhope,  and  his  brother,  with  Miss 
Tod  and  my  old  friend  Locker,1  Secretary  to  Greenwich 
Hospital.  We  did  not  break  up  the  party  till  one  in  the 
morning,  and  were  very  well  amused. 

October  7. — A  weary  day  of  rain.  Locker  and  I  chatted 
from  time  to  time,  and  I  wrought  not  at  Boney,  but  upon 
the  prose  works,  of  which  I  will  have  a  volume  ready  to 
send  in  on  Monday.  I  got  a  letter  from  John  Gibson,  with 
an  offer  by  Longman  for  Napoleon  of  ten  thousand  five 
hundred  guineas,2  which  I  have  advised  them  to  accept. 
Also  I  hear  there  is  some  doubt  of  my  getting  to  London, 
from  the  indecision  of  these  foolish  Londoners. 

I  don't  care  whether  I  go  or  no!  And  yet  it  is 
unpleasant  to  see  how  one's  motions  depend  on  scoundrels 
like  these.  Besides,  I  would  like  to  be  there,  were  it  but 
to  see  how  the  cat  jumps.  One  knows  nothing  of  the  world, 
if  you  are  absent  from  it  so  long  as  I  have  been. 

October  8. — Locker  left  me  this  morning.  He  is  of 
opinion  the  ministry  must  soon  assume  another  form,  but 
that  the  Whigs  will  not  come  in.  Lord  Liverpool  holds 
much  by  Lord  Melville — well  in  point  of  judgment — and 
by  the  Duke  of  Wellington — still  better,  but  then  the 
Duke  is  a  soldier — a  bad  education  for  a  statesman  in  a 
free  country.  The  Chancellor  is  also  consulted  by  the 
Premier  on  all  law  affairs.  Canning  and  Huskisson  are 
at  the  head  of  the  other  party,  who  may  be  said  to  have 
taken  the  Cabinet  by  storm,  through  sheer  dint  of  talent. 

1  E.  H.  Locker,  Esq. ,  then  Secre-  sanguine  as  to   the  success  of  the 
tary,  afterwards  one  of  the    Com-  Memoirs    of  Napoleon  that  I  did 
missioners  of  Greenwich  Hospital  not  hesitate  to  express  it  as  my 
— an  old  and  dear  friend  of  Scott's,  opinion  that  I  had  much  confidence 
—See  Oct.  25.  in  it  producing  him  at  least  £  10,000, 

and  this  I  observed,  as  my  expecta- 

2  As  an  illustration  of  Constable's     tion,  to  Sir  W.  Scott."  This  opinion 
accuracy  in  gauging  the  value  of     was  expressed  not  only  before  the 
literary  property,  it  may  be  stated     sale  of  the  work,  but  before  it  was 
that  in  his  formal  declaration,  after     all  written. — A.  Constable  and  his 
sequestration,  he  said: — "I  was  so     Correspondents,  vol.  iii.  p.  313. 


268  JOUKNAL.  [OCT. 

I  should  like  to  see  how  these  ingredients  are  working; 
but  by  the  grace  of  God,  I  will  take  care  of  putting  my 
finger  into  the  cleft  stick. 

Locker  has  promised  to  get  my  young  cousin  Walter 
Scott  on  some  quarter-deck  or  other. 

Eeceived  from  Mr.  Cadell  the  second  instalment 
advance  of  cash  on  Canongate.  It  is  in  English  bills 
and  money,  in  case  of  my  going  to  town. 

October  9. — A  gracious  letter  from  Messrs.  Abud  and 
Son,  bill-brokers,  etc. ;  assure  Mr.  Gibson  that  they  will 
institute  no  legal  proceedings  against  me  for  four  or  five 
weeks.  And  so  I  am  permitted  to  spend  my  money  and 
my  leisure  to  improve  the  means  of  paying  them  their 
debts,  for  that  is  the  only  use  of  my  present  journey.  They 
are  Jews :  I  suppose  the  devil  baits  for  Jews  with  a  pork 
griskin.  Were  I  not  to  exert  myself,  I  wonder  where  their 
money  is  to  come  from. 

A  letter  from  Gillies  menacing  the  world  with  a  foreign 
miscellany.  The  plan  is  a  good  one,  but  "  he  canna  haud 
it,"  as  John  Moodie 1  says.  He  will  think  all  is  done  when 
he  has  got  a  set  of  names,  and  he  will  find  the  difficulty 
consists  not  in  that,  but  in  getting  articles.  I  wrote  on  the 
prose  works. 

Lord  and  Lady  Minto  dined  and  spent  the  night  at 
Abbotsford. 

October  10. — Well,  I  must  prepare  for  going  to  London, 
and  perhaps  to  Paris.  The  morning  frittered  away.  I 
slept  till  eight  o'clock,  then  our  guests  till  twelve;  then 
walked  out  to  direct  some  alterations  on  the  quarry,  which 
I  think  may  at  little  expense  be  rendered  a  pretty  recess. 
Wordsworth  swears  by  an  old  quarry,  and  is  in  some  degree 
a  supreme  authority  on  such  points.  Eain  came  on; 
returned  completely  wet.  I  had  next  the  displeasure  to 
find  that  I  had  lost  the  conclusion  of  vol.  v.  of  Napoleon, 
seven  or  eight  pages  at  least,  which  I  shall  have  to  write 

1  Another  of  the  Abbotsford  labourers. 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  269 

over  again,  unless  I  can  find  it.      Well,  as  Othello  says, 
"  that 's  not  much."    My  cousin  James  Scott  came  to  dinner. 
I  have  great  unwillingness  to  set  out  on  this  journey ; 
I  almost  think  it  ominous ;  but 

"  They  that  look  to  freits,  my  master  dear, 
Their  freits  will  follow  them."1 

I  will  stick  to  my  purpose.  Answered  a  letter  from  Gillies 
about  establishing  a  foreign  journal ;  a  good  plan,  but  I  fear 
in  sorry  hands.  Of  those  he  names  as  his  assistants  they 
who  can  be  useful  will  do  little,  and  the  labours  of  those 
who  are  willing  to  work  will  rather  hold  the  publication 
down.  I  fear  it  will  not  do. 

I  am  downhearted  about  leaving  all  my  things,  after  I 
was  quietly  settled ;  it  is  a  kind  of  disrooting  that  recalls 
a  thousand  painful  ideas  of  former  happier  journeys.  And 
to  be  at  the  mercy  of  these  fellows !  God  help — but  rather 
God  bless — man  must  help  himself. 

October  11. — We  are  ingenious  self -tormentors.  This 
journey  annoys  me  more  than  anything  of  the  kind  in  my 
life.  My  wife's  figure  seems  to  stand  before  me,  and  her 
voice  is  in  my  ears — "  Scott,  do  not  go."  It  half  frightens 
me.  Strong  throbbing  at  my  heart,  and  a  disposition  to  be 
very  sick.  It  is  just  the  effect  of  so  many  feelings  which 
had  been  lulled  asleep  by  the  uniformity  of  my  life,  but 
which  awaken  on  any  new  subject  of  agitation.  Poor,  poor 
Charlotte ! !  I  cannot  daub  it  further.  I  get  incapable  of 
arranging  my  papers  too.  I  will  go  out  for  half-an-hour. 
God  relieve  me ! 

I  quelled  this  hysterica  passio  by  pushing  a  walk  towards 
Kaeside  and  back  again,  but  when  I  returned  I  still  felt  un- 
comfortable, and  all  the  papers  I  wanted  were  out  of  the 
way,  and  all  those  I  did  not  want  seemed  to  place  themselves 
under  my  fingers ;  my  cash,  according  to  the  nature  of  riches 
in  general,  made  to  itself  wings  and  fled,  I  verily  believe 
from  one  hiding-place  to  another.  To  appease  this  insur- 

1  See  Ballad  of  Edom  of  Gordon. 


270 


JOURNAL 


[OCT. 


rection  of  the  papers,  I  gave  up  putting  my  things  in  order 
till  to-morrow  morning. 

Dined  at  Kippielaw  with  a  party  of  neighbours.  They 
had  cigars  for  me,  very  politely.  But  I  must  break  folks  off 
this.  I  would  [not]  willingly  be  like  old  Dr.  Parr,  or  any 
such  quiz,  who  has  his  tastes  and  whims,  forsooth,  that  must 
be  gratified.  So  no  cigars  on  the  journey. 

October  12.1 — Reduced  my  rebellious  papers  to  order. 
Set  out  after  breakfast,  and  reached  Carlisle  at  eight  o'clock 
at  night. 

Rokeby  Park,  October  13. — We  were  off  before  seven,  and 
visiting  Appleby  Castle  by  the  way  (a  most  interesting  and 
curious  place),  we  got  to  Morritt's2  about  half-past  four,  where 
we  had  as  warm  a  welcome  as  one  of  the  warmest  hearts  in 
the  world  could  give  an  old  friend.  I  saw  his  nephew's 


1  "On  the  12th  of  October,  Sir 
Walter  left  Abbotsford  for  London, 
where  he  had  been  promised  access 
to  the  papers  in  the  Government 
offices  ;  and  thence  he  proceeded  to 
Paris,  in  the  hope  of  gathering  from 
various  eminent  persons  authentic 
anecdotes  concerning  Napoleon. 
His  Diary  shows  that  he  was 
successful  in  obtaining  many 
valuable  materials  for  the  comple- 
tion of  his  historical  work  ;  and 
reflects,  with  sufficient  distinctness, 
the  very  brilliant  reception  he  on 
this  occasion  experienced  both  in 
London  and  Paris.  The  range  of 
his  society  is  strikingly  (and  un- 
consciously) exemplified  in  the 
record  of  one  day,  when  we  find 
him  breakfasting  at  the  Royal 
Lodge  in  Windsor  Park,  and  supping 
on  oysters  and  porter  in  "honest 
Dan  Terry's  house,  like  a  squirrel's 
cage,"  above  the  Adelphi  Theatre 
in  the  Strand.  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that  this  expedition  was  in 
many  ways  serviceable  in  his  Life 
of  Napoleon ;  and  I  think  as  little 
that  it  was  chiefly  so  by  renewing 


his  spirits.  The  deep  and  respectful 
sympathy  with  which  his  mis- 
fortunes, and  gallant  behaviour 
under  them,  had  been  regarded  by 
all  classes  of  men  at  home  and 
abroad,  was  brought  home  to  his 
perception  in  a  way  not  to  be  mis- 
taken. He  was  cheered  and  grati- 
fied, and  returned  to  Scotland  with 
renewed  hope  and  courage  for  the 
prosecution  of  his  marvellous  course 
of  industry." — Life,  vol.  ix.  pp. 
2,  3. 

2  John  B.  Saurey  Morritt  of 
Rokeby,  a  frieud  of  twenty  years' 
standing,  and  "one  of  the  most  ac- 
complished men  that  ever  shared 
Scott's  confidence." 

He  had  published,  before  making 
Scott's  acquaintance,  a  Vindication 
of  Homer,  in  1798,  a  treatise  on 
The  Topography  of  Troy,  1800,  and 
translations  and  imitations  of  the 
minor  Greek  Poets  in  1802. 

Mr.  Morritt  survived  his  friend 
till  February  12th,  1843,  when  he 
died  at  Rokeby  Park,  Yorkshire, 
in  his  seventy-second  year. — See 
Life  throughout. 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  271 

wife  for  the  first  time,  a  very  pleasing  young  person.  It 
was  great  pleasure  to  me  to  see  Morritt  happy  in  the  midst 
of  his  family  circle,  undisturbed,  as  heretofore,  by  the  sickness 
of  any  dear  to  him. 

On  recalling  my  own  recollections  during  my  journey  I 
may  note  that  I  found  great  pleasure  in  my  companion's 
conversation,  as  well  as  in  her  mode  of  managing  all  her 
little  concerns  on  the  road.  I  am  apt  to  judge  of  character 
by  good-humour  and  alacrity  in  these  petty  concerns.  I 
think  the  inconveniences  of  a  journey  seem  greater  to  me 
than  formerly;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  pleasures  it 
affords  are  rather  less.  The  ascent  of  Stainmore  seemed 
duller  and  longer  than  usual,  and  Bowes,  which  used  to 
strike  me  as  a  distinguished  feature,  seemed  an  ill-formed 
mass  of  rubbish,  a  great  deal  lower  than  I  had  supposed ; 
yet  I  have  seen  it  twenty  times  at  least.  On  the  other 
hand,  what  I  lose  in  my  own  personal  feelings  I  gain  in 
those  of  my  companion,  who  shows  an  intelligent  curiosity 
and  interest  in  what  she  sees.  I  enjoy  therefore,  reflec- 
tively, veluti  in  speculo,  the  sort  of  pleasure  to  which  I  am 
now  less  accessible. 

October  14. — Strolled  about  in  the  morning  with  Morritt, 
and  saw  his  new  walk  up  the  Tees,  which  he  is  just  concoct- 
ing. Got  a  pamphlet  he  has  written  on  the  Catholic  Ques- 
tion. In  1806  he  had  other  views  on  that  subject,  but  "live 
and  learn  "  as  they  say.  One  of  his  squibs  against  Fox  and 
Grenville's  Administration  concludes — 

"  Though  they  sleep  with  the  devil,  yet  theirs  is  the  hope, 
On  the  ruin  of  England,  to  rise  with  the  Pope." 

Set  off  at  two,  and  reached  Wetherby  to  supper  and  bed. 

It  was  the  Corporation  of  Leeds  that  by  a  subscription 
of  £80,000  brought  in  the  anti-Catholic  candidate.  I 
remember  their  subscribing  a  similar  sum  to  bring  in  Morritt, 
if  he  would  have  stood. 

Saw  in  Morritt's  possession  an  original  miniature  of 
Milton  by  Cooper — a  valuable  thing  indeed.  The  pedigree 


272  JOURNAL.  [Ocx. 

seemed  authentic.  It  was  painted  for  his  favourite  daughter 
— had  come  into  possession  of  some  of  the  Davenants — was 
then  in  the  Devonshire  collection  from  which  it  was  stolen. 
Afterwards  purchased  by  Sir  Joshua  Eeynolds,  and  at  his 
sale  by  Morritt  or  his  father.1  The  countenance  handsome 
and  dignified,  with  a  strong  expression  of  genius,  probably 
the  only  portrait  of  Milton  taken  from  the  life  excepting  the 
drawing  from  which  Faithorne's  head  is  done. 

[Grrantham,]  October  15. — Old  England  is  no  changeling. 
It  is  long  since  I  travelled  this  road,  having  come  up  to 
town  chiefly  by  sea  of  late  years,  but  things  seem  much  the 
same.  One  race  of  red -nosed  innkeepers  are  gone,  and  their 
widows,  eldest  sons,  or  head- waiters  exercise  hospitality  in 
their  room  with  the  same  bustle  and  importance.  Other 
things  seem,  externally  at  least,  much  the  same.  The  land, 
however,  is  much  better  ploughed ;  straight  ridges  every- 
where adopted  in  place  of  the  old  circumflex  of  twenty  years 
ago.  Three  horses,  however,  or  even  four,  are  often  seen 
in  a  plough  yoked  one  before  the  other.  Ill  habits  do  not 
go  out  at  once.  We  slept  at  Grantham,  where  we  met  with 
Captain  William  Lockhart  and  his  lady,  bound  for  London 
like  ourselves. 

[Biggleswade,]  October  16. — Visited  Burleigh  this  morn- 
ing ;  the  first  time  I  ever  saw  that  grand  place,  where  there 
are  so  many  objects  of  interest  and  curiosity.  The  house  is 
magnificent,  in  the  style  of  James  i.'s  reign,  and  consequently 
in  mixed  Gothic.  Of  paintings  I  know  nothing ;  so  shall 
attempt  to  say  nothing.  But  whether  to  connoisseurs,  or  to 
an  ignorant  admirer  like  myself,  the  Salvator  Mundi,  by 
Carlo  Dolci,  must  seem  worth  a  King's  ransom.  Lady 
Exeter,  who  was  at  home,  had  the  goodness  or  curiosity  to 
wish  to  see  us.  She  is  a  beauty  after  my  own  heart ;  a  great 

1  MS.  note  on  margin  of  Journal     to  Burgh,  and  given  to  me  by  Mr. 
by  Mr.  Morritt:  ''No — it  was  left      Burgh's  widow. " 
by  Reynolds  to  Mason,  by  Mason 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  273 

deal  of  liveliness  in  the  face ;  an  absence  alike  of  form  and 
of  affected  ease,  and  really  courteous  after  a  genuine  and 
ladylike  fashion. 

We  reached  Biggleswade  to-night  at  six,  and  paused 
here  to  wait  for  the  Lockharts.  Spent  the  evening  together. 

[Pall  Mall,]  October  1 7. — Here  am  I  in  this  capital  once 
more,  after  an  April-weather  meeting  with  my  daughter  and 
Lockhart.  Too  much  grief  in  our  first  meeting  to  be  joy- 
ful ;  too  much  pleasure  to  be  distressing — a  giddy  sensation 
between  the  painful  and  the  pleasurable.  I  will  call 
another  subject. 

Eead  over  Sir  John  Chiverton  J  and  Brambletye  House  z- 
novels  in  what  I  may  surely  claim  as  the  style 

"  Which  I  was  born  to  introduce — 
Refined  it  first,  and  show'd  its  use." 

They  are  both  clever  books ;  one  in  imitation  of  the  days 
of  chivalry ;  the  other  (by  Horace  Smith,  one  of  the  authors 
of  the  Rejected  Addresses)  dated  in  the  time  of  the  Civil 
Wars,  and  introducing  historical  characters.  I  read  both 
with  great  interest  during  the  journey. 

I  am  something  like  Captain  Bobadil 3  who  trained  up 
a  hundred  gentlemen  to  fight  very  nearly,  if  not  altogether, 
as  well  as  myself.  And  so  far  I  am  convinced  of  this,  that 

1  Chiverton   was    the  first    pub-  system  of  historical  manners,  and 

lication    (anonymous)  of    Mr.   W.  the  same  historical  personages  are 

Harrison  Ainsworth,    the    author  introduced.      Of    course,    if   such 

of    Rookwood    and    other  popular  have  occurred,  I  shall  be  probably 

romances. — J.  G.  L.  the  sufferer.      But    my  intentions 

-  It  is  interesting  to  know  that  have  been  at  least  innocent,  since 

Scott  would  not  read    this   book  I  look  on  it  as  one  of  the  advantages 

until  Woodstock  was  fairly  off  his  attending  the  conclusion  of  Wood- 

liands.  stock,  that  the  finishing  of  my  own 

See  ante,  p.  167,  and  the  intro-  task  will  permit  me  to  have  the 

duction    to    the    original    edition  pleasure  of  reading  BKAMBLETYE- 

written  in  March  1826,  in  which  HOUSE,  from  which  I  have  hither  - 

the    author    says: — "Some    acci-  to    conscientiously    abstained." — 

dental    collision    there    must    be,  Novels,  vol.  xxxix.  pp.  Ixxv-vi. 
when  works  of  a  similar  character         3  Ben  Jonson,  Every  Man  in  hii 

are  finished  on  the  same  general  Humour. 


274  JOURNAL.  [Ocx. 

I  believe  were  I  to  publish  the  Canongate  Chronicles  without 
iny  name  (norti  de  guerre,  I  mean)  the  event  would  be  a 
corollary  to  the  fable  of  the  peasant  who  made  the  real  pig 
squeak  against  the  imitator,  while  the  sapient  audience 
hissed  the  poor  grunter  as  if  inferior  to  the  biped  in  his 
own  language.  The  peasant  could,  indeed,  confute  the  long- 
eared  multitude  by  showing  piggy ;  but  were  I  to  fail  as  a 
knight  with  a  white  and  maiden  shield,  and  then  vindicate 
my  claim  to  attention  by  putting  "By  the  Author  of  Waverley" 
in  the  title,  niy  good  friend  Publicum  would  defend  itself 
by  stating  I  had  tilted  so  ill,  that  my  course  had  not  the 
least  resemblance  to  my  former  doings,  when  indisputably 
I  bore  away  the  garland.  Therefore  I  am  as  firmly  and 
resolutely  determined  that  I  will  tilt  under  my  own  cog- 
nisance. The  hazard,  indeed,  remains  of  being  beaten.  But 
there  is  a  prejudice  (not  an  undue  one  neither)  in  favour  of 
the  original  patentee ;  and  Joe  Manton's  name  has  borne 
out  many  a  sorry  gun-barrel.  More  of  this  to-morrow. 

Expense  of  journey,        .        .-''..        .         .£41     0    0 
Anne,  pocket-money,      ....  500 

Servants  on  journey,       ....  200 

Cash  in  purse  (silver  not  reckoned),        .  200 

.£50     0     0 

This  is  like  to  be  an  expensive  journey ;  but  if  I  can  sell 
an  early  copy  of  the  work  to  a  French  translator,  it  should 
bring  me  home. 

Thank  God,  little  Johnnie  Hoo,  as  he  calls  himself,  is 
looking  well,  though  the  poor  dear  child  is  kept  always  in 
a  prostrate  posture. 

October  18. — I  take  up  again  my  remarks  on  imitators. 
I  am  sure  I  mean  the  gentlemen  no  wrong  by  calling  them 
so,  and  heartily  wish  they  had  followed  a  better  model ; 
but  it  serves  to  show  me  veluti  in  specula  my  own  errors,  or,  if 
you  will,  those  of  the  style.  One  advantage,  I  think,  I  still 
have  over  all  of  them.  They  may  do  their  fooling  with 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  275 

better  grace ;  but  I,  like  Sir  Andrew  Aguecheek,  do  it  more 
natural.1  They  have  to  read  old  books  and  consult  anti- 
quarian collections  to  get  their  knowledge ;  I  write  because 
I  have  long  since  read  such  works,  and  possess,  thanks  to  a 
strong  memory,  the  information  which  they  have  to  seek  for. 
This  leads  to  a  dragging-in  historical  details  by  head  and 
shoulders,  so  that  the  interest  of  the  main  piece  is  lost  in 
minute  descriptions  of  events  which  do  not  affect  its 
progress.  Perhaps  I  have  sinned  in  this  way  myself; 
indeed,  I  am  but  too  conscious  of  having  considered  the  plot 
only  as  what  Bayes2  calls  the  means  of  bringing  in  fine 
things ;  so  that  in  respect  to  the  descriptions,  it  resembled 
the  string  of  the  showman's  box,  which  he  pulls  to  show  in 
succession  Kings,  Queens,  the  Battle  of  Waterloo,  Bonaparte 
at  Saint  Helena,  Newmarket  Races,  and  White-headed  Bob 
floored  by  Jemmy  from  town.  All  this  I  may  have  done,  but 
I  have  repented  of  it ;  and  in  my  better  efforts,  while  I  con- 
ducted my  story  through  the  agency  of  historical  personages, 
and  by  connecting  it  with  historical  incidents,  I  have  en- 
deavoured to  weave  them  pretty  closely  together,  and  in  future 
I  will  study  this  more.  Must  not  let  the  background  eclipse 
the  principal  figures — the  frame  overpower  the  picture. 

Another  thing  in  my  favour  is,  that  my  contemporaries 
steal  too  openly.  Mr.  Smith  has  inserted  in  Bramhletye 
House  whole  pages  from  Defoe's  Fire  and  Plague  of 
London. 

11  Steal !  fob  !  a  fico  for  the  phrase- 
Convey,  the  wise  it  call !  "  3 

When  /  convey  an  incident  or  so,  I  am  at  as  much  pains 
to  avoid  detection  as  if  the  offence  could  be  indicted  in 
literal  fact  at  the  Old  Bailey. 

But  leaving  this,  hard  pressed  as  I  am  by  these  imitators, 
who  must  put  the  thing  out  of  fashion  at  last,  I  consider, 

1  Twelfth  Night,  Act  n.  Sc.  3. 
2  Rehearsal,  Act  in.  Sc.  1.  3  Merry  Wives,  Act  i.  Sc.  3. 


276  JOURNAL.  [OCT. 

like  a  fox  at  his  last  shifts,  whether  there  be  a  way  to  dodge 
them,  some  new  device  to  throw  them  off,  and  have  a  mile  or 
two  of  free  ground,  while  I  have  legs  and  wind  left  to  use  it. 
There  is  one  way  to  give  novelty  :  to  depend  for  success  on 
the  interest  of  a  well-contrived  story.  But  woe 's  me  !  that 
requires  thought,  consideration — the  writing  out  a  regular  plan 
or  plot — above  all  the  adhering  to  one — which  I  never  can  do, 
for  the  ideas  rise  as  I  write,  and  bear  such  a  disproportioned 
extent  to  that  which  each  occupied  at  the  first  concoction, 
that  (cocksnowns !)  I  shall  never  be  able  to  take  the  trouble ; 
and  yet  to  make  the  world  stare,  and  gain  a  new  march 
ahead  of  them  all ! ! !  Well,  something  we  still  will  do. 

"  Liberty 's  in  every  blow  ; 
Let  us  do  or  die  !  " 

Poor  Rob  Burns !  to  tack  thy  fine  strains  of  sublime 
patriotism  !  Better  take  Tristram  Shandy's  vein.  Hand  me 
my  cap  and  bells  there.  So  now,  I  am  equipped.  I  open 
my  raree-show  with 

Ma'am,  will  you  walk  in,  and  fal  de  ral  diddle  1 
And,  sir,  will  you  stalk  in,  and  fal  de  ral  diddle  ? 
And,  miss,  will  you  pop  in,  and  fal  de  ral  diddle  ? 
And,  master,  pray  hop  in,  and  fal  de  ral  diddle  ? 

Query — How  long  is  it  since  I  heard  that  strain  of 
dulcet  mood,  and  where  or  how  came  I  to  pick  it  up  ?  It  is 
not  mine,  "  though  by  your  smiling  you  seem  to  say  so." l 
Here  is  a  proper  morning's  work  !  But  I  am  childish  with 
seeing  them  all  well  and  happy  here ;  and  as  I  can  neither 
whistle  nor  sing,  I  must  let  the  giddy  humour  run  to  waste 
on  paper. 

Sallied  forth  in  the  morning ;  bought  a  hat.  Met  S[ir] 
W[illiam]  K[nighton], 2  from  whose  discourse  I  guess  that 
Malachi  has  done  me  no  prejudice  in  a  certain  quarter ;  with 
more  indications  of  the  times,  which  I  need  not  set  down. 

1  Hamlet,  Act  n.  Sc.  2.  ever  afterwards  they  corresponded 

-  Sir  Walter   had   made  his  ac-     with  each  other— sometimes    very 
quaintance   in    August    1822,    and     confidentially. — J.  G.  L. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  277 

Sallied  again  after  breakfast,  and  visited  the  Piccadilly 
ladies.1  Saw  Kogers  andKichard  Sharp,  also  good  Dr.  and 
Mrs.  Hughes,  also  the  Duchess  of  Buckingham,  and  Lady 
Charlotte  Bury,  with  a  most  beautiful  little  girl.  [Owen] 
Eees  breakfasted,  and  agreed  I  should  have  what  the 
Frenchman  has  offered  for  the  advantage  of  translating 
Napoleon,  which,  being  a  hundred  guineas,  will  help  my 
expenses  to  town  and  down-  again. 

October  1 9. — I  rose  at  my  usual  time,  but  could  not  write ; 
so  read  Southey's  History  of  the  Peninsular  War.  It  is  very 
good  indeed, — honest  English  principle  in  every  line ;  but 
there  are  many  prejudices,  and  there  is  a  tendency  to  aug- 
ment a  work  already  too  long  by  saying  all  that  can  be  said 
of  the  history  of  ancient  times  appertaining  to  every  place 
mentioned.  What  care  we  whether  Saragossa  be  derived  from 
Caesarea  Augusta  ?  Could  he  have  proved  it  to  be  Numan- 
tium,  there  would  have  been  a  concatenation  accordingly.2 

Breakfasted  at  Kogers'  with  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence; 
Luttrell,  the  great  London  wit  ;3  Richard  Sharp,  etc.  Sam 
made  us  merry  with  an  account  of  some  part  of  Rose's 
Ariosto ;  proposed  that  the  Italian  should  be  printed  on  the 
other  side  for  the  sake  of  assisting  the  indolent  reader  to 
understand  the  English ;  and  complained  of  his  using  more 
than  once  the  phrase  of  a  lady  having  "  voided  her  saddle," 
which  would  certainly  sound  extraordinary  at  Apothecaries' 
Hall.  Well,  well,  Rose  carries  a  dirk  too.4  The  morning 

1  The  Dumergues,  at  15  Piccadilly  were  publisked  anonymously,  such 
West — early  friends  of  Lady  Scott's,  as  Lines  written  at  A  mpthill  Park, 
— See  Life,  voL  ii.  p.  120.  in  1818  ;  Advice  to  Julia,  a  letter  in 

,  T,   .  ,,  .  Rhyme,  in  which  he  sketched  high 

3  It  is  amusing  to  compare  this 

...  .  .,,     ;;.      ™  ,,     ,  life  in  London,  in  1820.      He  also 

criticism    with  Sir    Walter's  own          ,,.  ,     ,  „      ,.     ,  TT 

.  .  .,     ,.»     v-     j       i.  published  Crock]  or  a  House:  a  rhaps- 

anxiety  to  identify  his   daughter-  r        .  *  .  * 

in-law's  place,   Lochore,  with  the      ?**  fa  "?'      M°°re  m  hlS  Dta^ 
Urb*  Orrea  of  the  Roman  writers.      hfs '  embalmed  numerous  examples 

See  Life,  vol.  vii.  p.  352.- J.  G.  L.         <*  ^  saturic  Wlt"     Henrv  Luttre11 

died  in  1851. 

3  This  brilliant  conversationalist  *  The  Orlando  Furioso,  by  Mr. 
was  the  author  of  several  airy  and  Stewart  Rose,  was  published  in  8 
graceful  productions  in  verse,  which  vols.  8vo,  London  1823-1831. 


278  JOURNAL.  [OCT. 

was  too  dark  for  "Westminster  Abbey,  which  we  had 
projected. 

I  went  to  the  Foreign  Office,  and  am  put  by  Mr.  Wilmot 
Horton  into  the  hands  of  a  confidential  clerk,  Mr.  Smith, 
who  promises  access  to  everything.  Then  saw  Croker,  who 
gave  me  a  bundle  of  documents.  Sir  George  Cockburn 
promises  his  despatches  and  journal.  In  short,  I  have  ample 
prospect  of  materials. 

Dined  with  Mrs.  Coutts.  Tragi-comic  distress  of  my 
good  friend  on  the  marriage  of  her  presumptive  heir  with  a 
daughter  of  Lucien  Bonaparte. 

October  20. — Commanded  down  to  pass  a  day  at  Windsor. 
This  is  very  kind  of  His  Majesty. 

At  breakfast,  Crofton  Croker,  author  of  the  Irish  Fairy 
Tales — little  as  a  dwarf,  keen-eyed  as  a  hawk,  and  of  very 
prepossessing  manners.  Something  like  Tom  Moore. 
There  were  also  Terry,  Allan  Cunningham,  Newton,  and 
others.  Now  I  must  go  to  work. 

Went  down  to  Windsor,  or  rather  to  the  Lodge  in  the 
Forest,  which,  though  ridiculed  by  connoisseurs,  seems  to  be 
no  bad  specimen  of  a  royal  retirement,  and  is  delightfully 
situated.  A  kind  of  cottage  orne'e — too  large  perhaps  for 
the  style — but  yet  so  managed  that  in  the  walks  you  only 
see  parts  of  it  at  once,  and  these  well  composed  and  group- 
ing with  immense  trees.  His  Majesty  received  me  with  the 
same  mixture  of  kindness  and  courtesy  which  has  always 
distinguished  his  conduct  towards  me.  There  was  no 
company  beside  the  royal  retinue — Lady  C[onyngham),  her 
daughter,  and  two  or  three  other  ladies.  After  we  left  table, 
there  was  excellent  music  by  the  Eoyal  Band,  who  lay 
ambushed  in  a  green-house  adjoining  the  apartment.  The 
King  made  me  sit  beside  him  and  talk  a  great  deal — too 
much,  perhaps — for  he  has  the  art  of  raising  one's  spirits, 
and  making  you  forget  the  retenue  which  is  prudent  every- 
where, especially  at  court.  But  he  converses  himself  with 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  279 

so  much  ease  and  elegance,  that  you  lose  thoughts  of  the 
prince  in  admiring  the  well-bred  and  accomplished  gentle- 
man. He  is,  in  many  respects,  the  model  of  a  British 
monarch — has  little  inclination  to  try  experiments  on  govern- 
ment otherwise  than  through  his  ministers — sincerely,  I 
believe,  desires  the  good  of  his  subjects,  is  kind  toward  the 
distressed,  and  moves  and  speaks  "  every  inch  a  king."1  I 
am  sure  such  a  man  is  fitter  for  us  than  one  who  would  long 
to  head  armies,  or  be  perpetually  intermeddling  with  la 
graiide  politique.  A  sort  of  reserve,  which  creeps  on  him 
daily,  and  prevents  his  going  to  places  of  public  resort,  is  a 
disadvantage,  and  prevents  his  being  so  generally  popular  as 
is  earnestly  to  be  desired.  This,  I  think,  was  much  increased 
by  the  behaviour  of  the  rabble  in  the  brutal  insanity  of  the 
Queen's  trial,  when  John  Bull,  meaning  the  best  in  the 
world,  made  such  a  beastly  figure. 

October  21. — Walked  in  the  morning  with  Sir  William 
Knighton,  and  had  much  confidential  chat,  not  fit  to  be  here 
set  down,  in  case  of  accidents.  He  undertook  most  kindly 
to  recommend  Charles,  when  he  has  taken  his  degree,  to  be 
attached  to  some  of  the  diplomatic  missions,  which  I  think 
is  best  for  the  lad  after  all.  After  breakfast  went  to 
Windsor  Castle,  met  by  appointment  my  daughters  and 
Lockhart,  and  examined  the  improvements  going  on  there 
under  Mr.  Wyattville,  who  appears  to  possess  a  great  deal  of 
taste  and  feeling  for  Gothic  architecture.  The  old  apart- 
ments, splendid  enough  in  extent  and  proportion,  are  paltry 
in  finishing.  Instead  of  being  lined  with  heart  of  oak,  the 
palace  of  the  British  King  is  hung  with  paper,  painted 
wainscot  colour.  There  are  some  fine  paintings  and  some  droll 
ones;  among  the  last  are  those  of  divers  princes  of  the  House 
of  Mecklenburg-Strelitz,  of  which  Queen  Charlotte  was  de- 
scended. They  are  ill-coloured,  orang-outang-looking  figures, 
with  black  eyes  and  hook-noses,  in  old-fashioned  uniforms. 

1  King  Lear,  Act  iv.  Sc.  6. — J.  G.  L. 


280  JOURNAL.  [OCT. 

We  returned  to  a  hasty  dinner  [in  Pall  Mall],  and  then 
hurried  away  to  see  honest  Dan  Terry's  house,  called  the 
Adelphi  Theatre,  where  we  saw  the  Pilot,  from  the  American 
novel  of  that  name.  It  is  extremely  popular,  the  dramatist 
having  seized  on  the  whole  story,  and  turned  the  odious  and 
ridiculous  parts,  assigned  by  the  original  author  to  the 
British,  against  the  Yankees  themselves.  There  is  a  quiet 
effrontery  in  this  that  is  of  a  rare  and  peculiar  character. 
The  Americans  were  so  much  displeased,  that  they  attempted 
a  row — which  rendered  the  piece  doubly  attractive  to  the 
seamen  at  Wapping,  who  came  up  and  crowded  the  house 
night  after  night,  to  support  the  honour  of  the  British  flag. 
After  all,  one  must  deprecate  whatever  keeps  up  ill-will 
betwixt  America  and  the  mother  country ;  and  we  in  parti- 
cular should  avoid  awakening  painful  recollections.  Our 
high  situation  enables  us  to  contemn  petty  insults  and  to 
make  advances  towards  cordiality.  I  was,  however,  glad 
to  see  honest  Dan's  theatre  as  full  seemingly  as  it  could 
hold.  The  heat  was  dreadful,  and  Anne  was  so  very  unwell 
that  she  was  obliged  to  be  carried  into  Terry's  house, — a 
curious  dwelling,  no  larger  than  a  squirrel's  cage,  which  he 
has  contrived  to  squeeze  out  of  the  vacant  spaces  of  the 
theatre,  and  which  is  accessible  by  a  most  complicated 
combination  of  staircases  and  small  passages.  Here  we 
had  rare  good  porter  and  oysters  after  the  play,  and  found 
Anne  much  better.  She  had  attempted  too  much ;  indeed 
I  myself  was  much  fatigued. 

October  22. — This  morning  Drs.  Gooch,  Shaw,  and  Yates 
breakfasted,  and  had  a  consultation  about  wee  Johnnie. 
They  give  us  great  hopes  that  his  health  will  be  established, 
but  the  seaside  or  the  country  seem  indispensable.  Mr. 
Wilmot  Hortoii,1  Under  Secretary  of  State,  also  breakfasted. 
He  is  full  of  some  new  plan  of  relieving  the  poor's-rates  by 

1  Afterwards  the  Right  Hon.  Sir  Robert  Wilmot  Horton,  Governor  of 
Ceylon. 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  281 

encouraging  emigration.  But  John  Bull  will  think  this 
savours  of  Botany  Bay.  The  attempt  to  look  the  poor's- 
rates  in  the  face  is  certainly  meritorious. 

Laboured  in  writing  and  marking  extracts  to  be  copied 
from  breakfast  to  dinner,  with  the  exception  of  an  hour 
spent  in  telling  Johnnie  the  history  of  his  namesake, 
Gilpin. 

Mr.  William  and  Mrs.  Lockhart  dined  with  us.  Tom 
Moore1  and  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence  came  in  the  evening,  which 
made  a  pleasant  soiree.  Smoke  my  French — Egad,  it  is  time 
to  air  some  of  my  vocabulary.  It  is,  I  find,  cursedly  musty. 

October  23. — Sam  Eogers  and  Moore  breakfasted  here, 
and  we  were  very  merry  fellows.  Moore  seemed  disposed  to 
go  to  France  with  us.  I  visited  the  Admiralty,  and  got  Sir 
George  Cockburn's  journal,  which  is  valuable.2  Also  visited 
Lady  Elizabeth  and  Sir  Charles  Stewart.  My  heart  warmed 
to  the  former,  on  account  of  the  old  Balcarres  connection. 
Sir  Charles  and  she  were  very  kind  and  communicative.  I 
foresee  I  will  be  embarrassed  with  more  communications 
than  I  can  well  use  or  trust  to,  coloured  as  they  must  be  by 
the  passions  of  those  who  make  them.  Thus  I  have  a  state- 
ment from  the  Duchess  d'Escars,  to  which  the  Bonapartists 
would,  I  dare  say,  give  no  credit.  If  Talleyrand,  for  example, 
could  be  communicative,  he  must  have  ten  thousand  reasons 

1  Moore,   on   hearing  of   Scott's  the    party.        This    suspicion    on 

arrival,  hastened  to  London  from  Moore's  part  shows  how  he  had  mis- 

Sloperton,  and  had  several  pleasant  understood  Scott's  real  character, 

meetings,  particulars  of  which  are  If  Scott  thought  it  right  to  ask  the 

given  in  his  Diary  (vol.  v.  pp.  191  to  Bard  of  Ireland  to  be  his  companion, 

126).     He  would,  as  Scott  says  on  no  hints  from  Mr.  Wilmot  Horton, 

the  23d,  have  gone  to  Paris  with  or  any  members  of  the  Court  party, 

them — "seemed  disposed  to  go";  would  have  influenced  him,  even 

but  between  that  date  and  25th  though  they  had  urged  that  '•  this 

fancied    that    he    saw    something  political  reprobate "  was  author  of 

in  Scott's  manner  that  made  him  TJie  Fudge  Family  in  Paris  and  the 

hesitate,  and  then  finally  give  up  Twopenny  Post-Bag. 
the    idea.      He    adds  that   Scott's 

friends     had    thrown    out     hints  2  Sir  George  died  in  1853.     His 

as  to  the  impropriety  of   such  a  journal  does  not  appear  to   have 

political  reprobate  forming  one  of  been  published. 


282  JOURNAL.  [OCT. 

for  perverting  the  truth,  and  yet  a  person  receiving  a  direct 
communication  from  him  would  be  almost  barred  from  dis- 
puting it. 

u  Sing  tantararara,  rogues  all." 

We  dined  at  the  Residentiary-house  with  good  Dr. 
Hughes,1  Allan  Cunningham,  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  and 
young  Mr.  Hughes.  Thomas  Pringle  2  is  returned  from  the 
Cape,  and  called  in  my  absence.  He  might  have  done  well 
there,  could  he  have  scoured  his  brain  of  politics,  but  he  must 
needs  publish  a  Whig  journal  at  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope ! 
He  is  a  worthy  creature,  but  conceited  withal — hinc  Ulce 
lachrymce.  He  brought  me  some  antlers  and  a  skin,  in 
addition  to  others  he  had  sent  to  Abbotsford  four  years  since. 
Crofton  Croker  made  me  a  present  of  a  small  box  of  curious 
Irish  antiquities  containing  a  gold  fibula,  etc.  etc. 

October  24. — Laboured  in  the  morning.  At  breakfast 
Dr.  Holland 3  and  Cohen,  whom  they  now  call  Palgrave,4  a 
mutation  of  names  which  confused  my  recollections.  Item, 

1  Dr.  Hughes,  who  died  Jan.  6,  mendations  to  the  late  Lord  Charles 
1833,  aged  seventy-seven,  was  one  Somerset,  Governor  of  the  Cape  of 
of  the  Canons-residentiary  of  St.  Good   Hope    in  which  colony  he 
Paul's,    London.       He    and    Mrs.  settled,  and  for  some  years  throve 
Hughes    were    old  friends  of    Sir  under   the   Governor's  protection; 
Walter,  who  had  been  godfather  to  but  the  newspaper  alluded  to  in  the 
one  of    their    grandchildren. — See  text    ruined  his  prospects  at  the 
Life,  vol.  vii.  pp.  259-260.      Their  Cape  ;  he  returned  to  England,  be- 
son    was    John   Hughes,  Esq.,   of  came  Secretary  to  the  Anti-Slavery 
Oriel  College,  whose  "Itinerary  of  Society,  published  a  charming  little 
the    Rhone"    is    mentioned    with  volume  entitled  African  Sketches, 
praise  in  the  introduction  to  Quen-  and  died  in  December  1834.      He 
tin  Durward. — See  letter  to  Charles  was  a  man  of  amiable  feelings  and 
Scott,  in  Life,  vol.  vii.  p.  275.  elegant  genius. 

2  Mr.  Pringle  was  a  Roxburgh- 

,  .       ,  ,  .,  s  An    esteemed    friend    of    Sir 

shire  farmer  s  son  who  in    youth 

..       .   J  o-   T«T  u.    »       i-      u    u-        Walters,    who    attended    on    him 
attracted  Sir  Walter's  notice  by  his  .        '  •     r*  *  i  .     1001 

„.,„,,  ,   „  during  his  illness  in  October  1831, 

poem  called  The  Autumna'  Excur-          ,  . &  ,        ,  oori 
„,  .  ,        .      m    .  . ,  ,        and  in  June  1832. 
sion;    or,    Sketches    in    Teviotdale. 

He  was  for  a  short  time  Editor  of          4  Afterwards    Sir    Francis    Pal- 

Elackwood's  Magazine,  but  the  pub-  grave,  Deputy-Keeper  of  the  public 

Ksher  and  he  had  different  politics,  records,  and  author  of  the  History 

quarrelled,  and  parted.    Sir  Walter  of  Normandy  and  England,  4  vols. 

then  gave  Pringle   strong    recom-  Svo,  1851-1864,  and  other  works. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  283 

Moore.  I  worked  at  the  Colonial  Office  pretty  hard.  Dined 
with  Mr.  Wilmot  Horton  and  his  beautiful  wife,  the 
original  of  the  "  She  walks  in  Beauty"  etc.,  of  poor  Byron. 

The  conversation  is  seldom  excellent  among  official 
people.  So  many  topics  are  what  Otaheitians  call  taboo. 
We  hunted  down  a  pun  or  two,  which  were  turned  out,  like 
the  stag  at  the  Epping  Hunt,  for  the  pursuit  of  all  and 
sundry.  Came  home  early,  and  was  in  bed  by  eleven. 

October  25. — Good  Mr.  Wilson1  and  his  wife  at  break- 
fast; also  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence.  Locker2  came  in  after- 
wards, and  made  a  proposal  to  me  to  give  up  his  intended 
Life  of  George  in.  in  my  favour  on  cause  shown.  I  declined 
the  proposal,  not  being  of  opinion  that  my  genius  lies  that 
way,  and  not  relishing  hunting  in  couples.  Afterwards 
went  to  the  Colonial  Office,  and  had  Robert  Hay's  assist- 
ance in  my  inquiries ;  then  to  the  French  Ambassador  for 
my  passports.  Picked  up  Sotheby,  who  endeavoured  to 
saddle  me  for  a  review  of  his  polyglot  Virgil.  I  fear  I  shall 
scarce  convince  him  that  I  know  nothing  of  the  Latin  lingo. 
Sir  R.  H.  Inglis,  Richard  Sharp,  and  other  friends  called. 
We  dined  at  Miss  Dumergue's,  and  spent  a  part  of  our 
soiree  at  Lydia  White's.  To-morrow, 

"  For  France,  for  France,  for  it  is  more  than  need.'' 3 

[Calais,]  October  26. — Up  at  five,  and  in  the  packet  by 
six.  A  fine  passage — save  at  the  conclusion,  while  we  lay 
on  and  off  the  harbour  of  Calais.  But  the  tossing  made 
no  impression  on  my  companion  or  me ;  we  ate  and  drank 
like  dragons  the  whole  way,  and  were  able  to  manage  a 
good  supper  and  best  part  of  a  bottle  of  Chablis,  at  the 
classic  Dessein's,  who  received  us  with  much  courtesy. 

October  27. — Custom  House,  etc.,  detained  us  till  nearteu 

1  William  Wilson  of  Wandsworth  of  Greenwich  Hospital.  — See  ante, 

Common,  formerly  of  Wilsontown,  Oct.  7. 
in  Lanarkshire. — J.  G.  L. 

"  E.  H.  Locker,  then  Secretary  3  King  John,  Act  I.  Sc.  I. 


284  JOUKNAL.  [Ocx. 

o'clock,  so  we  had  time  to  walk  on  the  Boulevards,  and  to  see 
the  fortifications,  which  must  be  very  strong,  all  the  country 
round  being  flat  and  marshy.  Lost,  as  all  know,  by  the 
bloody  papist  bitch  (one  must  be  vernacular  when  on  French 
ground)  Queen  Mary,  of  red-hot  memory.  I  would  rather 
she  had  burned  a  score  more  of  bishops.  If  she  had  kept  it, 
her  sister  Bess  would  sooner  have  parted  with  her  virginity. 
Charles  I.  had  no  temptation  to  part  with  it — it  might, 
indeed,  have  been  shuffled  out  of  our  hands  during  the  Civil 
wars,  but  Noll  would  have  as  soon  let  monsieur  draw  one  of 
his  grinders  ;  then  Charles  n.  would  hardly  have  dared  to 
sell  such  an  old  possession,  as  he  did  Dunkirk ;  and  after 
that  the  French  had  little  chance  till  the  Eevolution.  Even 
then,  I  think,  we  could  have  held  a  place  that  could  be 
supplied  from  our  own  element,  the  sea.  Cui  bono  ?  None, 
I  think,  but  to  plague  the  rogues. — We  dined  at  Cormont, 
and  being  stopped  by  Mr.  Canning  having  taken  up  all  the 
post-horses,  could  only  reach  Montreuil  that  night.  I  should 
have  liked  to  have  seen  some  more  of  this  place,  which  is 
fortified ;  and  as  it  stands  on  an  elevated  and  rocky  site 
must  present  some  fine  points.  But  as  we  came  in  late  and 
left  early,  I  can  only  bear  witness  to  good  treatment,  good 
supper,  good  vin  de  Barsac,  and  excellent  beds. 

October  28. — Breakfasted  at  Abbeville,  and  saw  a  very 
handsome  Gothic  church,  and  reached  Grandvilliers  at  night. 
The  house  is  but  second-rate,  though  lauded  by  various 
English  travellers  for  the  moderation  of  its  charges,  as  was 
recorded  in  a  book  presented  to  us  by  the  landlady.  There 
is  no  great  patriotism  in  publishing  that  a  traveller  thinks 
the  bills  moderate ;  it  serves  usually  as  an  intimation  to 
mine  host  or  hostess  that  John  Bull  will  bear  a  little  more 
squeezing.  I  gave  my  attestation  too,  however,  for  the 
charges  of  the  good  lady  resembled  those  elsewhere ;  and 
her  anxiety  to  please  was  extreme.  Folks  must  be  harder- 
hearted  than  I  am  to  resist  the  empressement,  which 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  285 

may,  indeed,  be  venal,  yet  has  in  its  expression  a  touch 
of  cordiality. 

[Paris,]  October  29. — Breakfasted  at  Beauvais,  and  saw 
its  magnificent  cathedral — unfinished  it  has  been  left,  and 
unfinished  it  will  remain,  of  course, — the  fashion  of  cathe- 
drals being  passed  away.  But  even  what  exists  is  inimit- 
able, the  choir  particularly,  and  the  grand  front.  Beauvais 
is  called  the  Pucelle,  yet,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  she  wears  no 
stays — I  mean,  has  no  fortifications.  On  we  run,  however. 
Vogue  la  gaUre ;  et  voild,  nous  a  Paris,  Hotel  de  Windsor 
[Rue  Rivoli],  where  we  are  well  lodged.  France,  so  far  as  I 
can  see,  which  is  very  little,  has  not  undergone  many 
changes.  The  image  of  war  has,  indeed,  passed  away,  and 
we  no  longer  see  troops  crossing  the  country  in  every  direc- 
tion ;  villages  either  ruined  or  hastily  fortified ;  inhabitants 
sheltered  in  the  woods  and  caves  to  escape  the  rapacity  of 
the  soldiers — all  this  has  passed  away.  The  inns  are  much 
amended.  There  is  no  occasion  for  that  rascally  practice  of 
making  a  bargain — or  combien-ing  your  landlady,  before  you 
unharness  your  horses,  which  formerly  was  a  matter  of 
necessity.  The  general  taste  of  the  English  seems  to  regu- 
late the  travelling — naturally  enough,  as  the  hotels,  of  which 
there  are  two  or  three  in  each  town,  chiefly  subsist  by  them. 
We  did  not  see  one  French  equipage  on  the  road  ;  the 
natives  seem  to  travel  entirely  in  the  Diligence,  and  doubt- 
less a  bon  marcM ;  the  road  was  thronged  with  English. 

But  in  her  great  features  France  is  the  same  as  ever. 
An  oppressive  air  of  solitude  seems  to  hover  over  these  rich 
and  extended  plains,  while  we  are  sensible  that,  whatever  is 
the  motive  of  the  desolation,  it  cannot  be  sterility.  The 
towns  are  small,  and  have  a  poor  appearance,  and  more 
frequently  exhibit  signs  of  decayed  splendour  than  of 
thriving  and  increasing  prosperity.  The  chateau,  the 
abode  of  the  gentleman,  and  the  villa,  the  retreat  of  the 
thriving  nfyociant,  are  rarely  seen  till  you  come  to  Beau- 


286  JOUKNAL.  [Ocr. 

mont.  At  this  place,  which  well  deserves  its  name  of  the 
fair  mount,  the  prospect  improves  greatly,  and  country-seats 
are  seen  in  abundance  ;  also  woods,  sometimes  deep  and  ex- 
tensive, at  other  times  scattered  in  groves  and  single  trees. 
Amidst  these  the  oak  seldom  or  never  is  found  ;  England, 
lady  of  the  ocean,  seems  to  claim  it  exclusively  as  her  own. 
Neither  are  there  any  quantity  of  firs.  Poplars  in  abun- 
dance give  a  formal  air  to  the  landscape.  The  forests  chiefly 
consist  of  beeches,  with  some  birches,  and  the  roads  are 
bordered  by  elms  cruelly  cropped,  pollarded,  and  switched. 
The  demand  for  firewood  occasions  these  mutilations.  If  I 
could  waft  by  a  wish  the  thinnings  of  Abbotsford  here,  it 
would  make  a  little  fortune  of  itself.  But  then  to  switch 
and  mutilate  my  trees ! — not  for  a  thousand  francs.  Ay, 
but  sour  grapes,  quoth  the  fox. 

October  30. — Finding  ourselves  snugly  settled  in  our 
Hotel,  we  determined  to  remain  here  at  fifteen  francs  per 
day.  We  are  in  the  midst  of  what  can  be  seen,  and  we 
are  very  comfortably  fed  and  lodged. 

This  morning  wet  and  surly.  Sallied,  however,  by  the 
assistance  of  a  hired  coach,  and  left  cards  for  Count  Pozzo 
di  Borgo,  Lord  Granville,  our  ambassador,  and  M.  Gallois, 
author  of  the  History  of  Venice*  Found  no  one  at  home, 
not  even  the  old  pirate  Galignani,2  at  whose  den  I  ventured 

1  There    were    two    well-known  Gallois  whom  Scott  saw,  and  that 

Frenchmen  o!  this  name  at  the  time  he  ascribed  to  him,  though  the  title 

of  Scott's  visit  to  Paris  :  (1)  Jean-  is  misquoted,  a  work  written  by  the 

Antoine-Gauvain  Gallois,  who  was  younger. 

born  about  1755  and  died  in  1828  ;        2    "  When    he    was    in    Paris," 

(2)  Charles-Andre'-Gustave-Leonard  Hazlitt    writes,     "  and    went    to 

Gallois,  born  1789,  died  1851.     It  Galignani's,   he   sat    down    in    an 

was  the  latter  of  these  who  trans-  outer  room  to  look  at  some  book 

lated  from  the  Italian  of  Colletta  he  wanted  to  see  ;   none  of    the 

Cinq  jours  de  I'histoire  de  Naples,  clerks  had  the  least  suspicion  who 

8vo,  Paris,  1820.     But  at  this  date  he  was.     When  it  was  found  out, 

he  was  only  thirty-seven,  and  it  can  the  place  was  in  a  commotion." — 

scarcely  be  of  him  that  Scott  writes  From  Mr.  Alexander  Ireland's  ex- 

(p.  288)  as  an  "elderly"  man.     The  cellent    Selections   from    Hazlitt's 

probability  is  that  it  was  the  elder  writings,  8vo,  Lond.  1889,  p.  482. 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  287 

to  call.  Showed  my  companion  the  Louvre  (which  was 
closed,  unluckily),  the  front  of  the  palace  with  its  courts, 
and  all  that  splendid  quarter  which  the  fame  of  Paris  rests 
upon  in  security.  We  can  never  do  the  like  in  Britain. 
Koyal  magnificence  can  only  be  displayed  by  despotic 
power.  In  England,  were  the  most  splendid  street  or  public 
building  to  be  erected,  the  matter  must  be  discussed  in 
Parliament,  or  perhaps  some  sturdy  cobbler  holds  out,  and 
refuses  to  part  with  his  stall,  and  the  whole  plan  is  discon- 
certed. Long  may  such  impediments  exist !  But  then  we 
should  conform  to  circumstances,  and  assume  in  our  public 
works  a  certain  sober  simplicity  of  character,  which  should 
point  out  that  they  were  dictated  by  utility  rather  than  show. 
The  affectation  of  an  expensive  style  only  places  us  at  a  dis- 
advantageous contrast  with  other  nations,  and  our  substitute 
of  brick  and  plaster  for  freestone  resembles  the  mean  ambi- 
tion which  displays  Bristol  stones  in  default  of  diamonds. 

We  went  to  theatre  in  the  evening — Come'die  Fran^aise 
the  place,  Eosemunde  the  piece.  It  is  the  composition  of  a 
young  man  with  a  promising  name — ]£inile  de  Bonnechose ; 
the  story  that  of  Fair  Rosamond.  There  were  some  good 
situations,  and  the  actors  in  the  French  taste  seemed  to  me 
admirable,  particularly  Mademoiselle  Bourgoin.  It  would 
be  absurd  to  attempt  to  criticise  what  I  only  half  understood ; 
but  the  piece  was  well  received,  and  produced  a  very  strong 
effect.  Two  or  three  ladies  were  carried  out  in  hysterics ; 
one  next  to  our  box  was  frightfully  ill  A  Monsieur  &  belles 
moustaches — the  husband,  I  trust,  though  it  is  likely  they 
were  en  partie  fine. — was  extremely  and  affectionately 
assiduous.  She  was  well  worthy  of  the  trouble,  being  very 
pretty  indeed ;  the  face  beautiful,  even  amidst  the  involuntary 
convulsions.  The  afterpiece  was  Femme  Juge  et  Partie, 
with  which  I  was  less  amused  than  I  had  expected,  because 
I  found  I  understood  the  language  less  than  I  did  ten  or 
eleven  years  since.  Well,  well,  I  am  past  the  age  of  mending. 


288  JOUKNAL.  [Ocx. 

Some  of  our  friends  in  London  bad  pretended  that  at 
Paris  I  might  stand  some  chance  of  being  encountered  by 
the  same  sort  of  tumultuary  reception  which  I  met  in 
Ireland;  but  for  this  I  see  no  ground.  It  is  a  point  on 
which  I  am  totally  indifferent.  As  a  literary  man  I  cannot 
affect  to  despise  public  applause ;  as  a  private  gentleman  I 
have  always  been  embarrassed  and  displeased  with  popular 
clamours,  even  when  in  my  favour.  I  know  very  well  the 
breath  of  which  such  shouts  are  composed,  and  am  sensible 
those  who  applaud  me  to-day  would  be  as  ready  to  toss  me 
to-morrow ;  and  I  would  not  have  them  think  that  I  put 
such  a  value  on  their  favour  as  would  make  me  for  an  instant 
fear  their  displeasure.  Now  all  this  disclamation  is  sincere, 
and  yet  it  sounds  affected.  It  puts  me  in  mind  of  an  old 
woman  who,  when  Carlisle  was  taken  by  the  Highlanders 
in  1745,  chose  to  be  particularly  apprehensive  of  personal 
violence,  and  shut  herself  up  in  a  closet,  in  order  that  she 
might  escape  ravishment.  But  no  one  came  to  disturb  her 
solitude,  and  she  began  to  be  sensible  that  poor  Donald  was 
looking  out  for  victuals,  or  seeking  for  some  small  plunder, 
without  bestowing  a  thought  on  the  fair  sex ;  by  and  by  she 
popped  her  head  out  of  her  place  of  refuge  with  the  petty 
question,  "  Good  folks,  can  you  tell  when  the  ravishing  is 
going  to  begin  ? "  I  am  sure  I  shall  neither  hide  myself  to 
avoid  applause,  which  probably  no  one  will  think  of  con- 
ferring, nor  have  the  meanness  to  do  anything  which  can 
indicate  any  desire  of  ravishment  I  have  seen,  when  the 
late  Lord  Erskine  entered  the  Edinburgh  theatre,  papers 
distributed  in  the  boxes  to  mendicate  a  round  of  applause 
— the  natural  reward  of  a  poor  player. 

October  31. — At  breakfast  visited  by  M.  Gallois,  an  elderly 
Frenchman  (always  the  most  agreeable  class),  full  of  infor- 
mation, courteous  and  communicative.  He  had  seen  nearly, 
and  remarked  deeply,  and  spoke  frankly,  though  with  due 
caution.  He  went  with  us  to  the  Museum,  where  I  think 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  289 

the  Hall  of  Sculpture  continues  to  be  a  fine  thing;  that 
of  Pictures  but  tolerable,  when  we  reflect  upon  1815.  A 
number  of  great  French  daubs  (comparatively),  by  David 
and  Gerard,  cover  the  walls  once  occupied  by  the  Italian 
chefs-d'oeuvre.  Fiat  justitia,  mat  coelum.  We  then  visited 
Notre  Dame  and  the  Palace  of  Justice.  The  latter  is 
accounted  the  oldest  building  in  Paris,  being  the  work  of 
St.  Louis.  It  is,  however,  in  the  interior,  adapted  to  the 
taste  of  Louis  xiv.  We  drove  over  the  Pont  Neuf,  and 
visited  the  fine  quays,  which  was  all  we  could  make  out 
to-day,  as  I  was  afraid  to  fatigue  Anne.  When  we  returned 
home  I  found  Count  Pozzo  di  Borgo  waiting  for  me,  a  person- 
able man,  inclined  to  be  rather  corpulent — handsome  features, 
with  all  the  Corsican  fire  in  his  eye.  He  was  quite  kind  and 
communicative.  Lord  Granville  had  also  called,  and  sent  Mr. 
Jones  [his  secretary]  to  invite  us  to  dinner  to-morrow.  In 
the  evening  at  the  Ode"on,  where  we  saw  Ivarihoe.  It  was 
superbly  got  up,  the  Norman  soldiers  wearing  pointed 
helmets  and  what  resembled  much  hauberks  of  mail,  which 
looked  very  well.  The  number  of  the  attendants,  and  the 
skill  with  which  they  were  moved  and  grouped  on  the  stage, 
were  well  worthy  of  notice.  It  was  an  opera,  and  of  course 
the  story  greatly  mangled,  and  the  dialogue  in  a  great  part 
nonsense.  Yet  it  was  strange  to  hear  anything  like  the 
words  which  I  (then  in  an  agony  of  pain  with  spasms  in  my 
stomach)  dictated  to  William  Laidlaw  at  Abbotsf ord,  now 
recited  in  a  foreign  tongue,  and  for  the  amusement  of  a 
strange  people.  I  little  thought  to  have  survived  the  com- 
pleting of  this  novel.1 

1  Ivan  hoe  might  have  borne  a  motto  tempts  at   portrait- painting   when 

.  somewhat  analogous  to  the  inscrip-  he  had  the  gout :  "  Fredericua  I.  in 

tion  which  Frederick  the  Great's  tormentis  pinxit." — Recollections  of 

predecessor  used  to  affix  to  his  at-  Sir  Walter  Scott,  p.  240.   Lond.  1837. 


NOVEMBER 

November  1. — I  suppose  the  ravishing  is  going  to  begin, 
for  we  have  had  the  Dames  des  Halles,  with  a  bouquet  like 
a  maypole,  and  a  speech  full  of  honey  and  oil,  which  cost 
me  ten  francs ;  also  a  small  worshipper,  who  would  not  leave 
his  name,  but  came  seulement  pour  avoir  leplaisir,  lafdititt 
etc.  etc.  All  this  jargon  I  answer  with  corresponding  blarney 
of  my  own,  for  "  have  I  not  licked  the  black  stone  of  that 
ancient  castle  ? "  As  to  French,  I  speak  it  as  it  comes,  and 
like  Doeg  in  Absalom  and  Achitophel — 

" dash  on  through  thick  and  thin, 

Through  sense  and  nonsense,  never  out  nor  in." 

We  went  this  morning  with  M.  Gallois  to  the  Church  of  St. 
Genevieve,  and  thence  to  the  College  Henri  iv.,  where  I  saw 
once  more  my  old  friend  Chevalier.1  He  was  unwell,  swathed 
in  a  turban  of  nightcaps  and  a  multiplicity  of  roles  de 
chambre\  but  he  had  all  the  heart  and  the  vivacity  of 
former  times.  I  was  truly  glad  to  see  the  kind  old  man. 
We  were  unlucky  in  our  day  for  sights,  this  being  a  high 
festival — All  Souls'  Day.  We  were  not  allowed  to  scale 
the  steeple  of  St.  Genevieve,  neither  could  we  see  the 
animals  at  the  Jardin  des  Plantes,  who,  though  they  have 
no  souls,  it  is  supposed,  and  no  interest  of  course  in  the 
devotions  of  the  day,  observe  it  in  strict  retreat,  like  the 
nuns  of  Kilkenny.  I  met,  however,  one  lioness  walking  at 
large  in  the  Jardin,  and  was  introduced.  This  was  Madame 
de  Souza,2  the  authoress  of  some  well-known  French  romances 

1  For  an  account  of  M.  Chevalier,  author  of  AdMe  de  Senanges,  and 

and  an  interview  in  1815  with  other  works,  which  formed  the 

David  "of  the  blood-stained  brush,"  subject  of  an  article  in  the  Edin- 

see  Life,  vol.  v.  p.  87.  burgh,  No.  68,  written  by  Moore. 

3  Madame      de     Souza-Botelho,  At  the  time  Scott  met  her  she  had 

290 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  291 

of  a  very  classical  character,  I  am  told,  for  I  have  never  read 
them.  She  must  have  been  beautiful,  and  is  still  well- 
looked.  She  is  the  mother  of  the  handsome  Count  de 
Flahault,  and  had  a  very  well-looking  daughter  with  her, 
besides  a  son  or  two.  She  was  very  agreeable.  We  are  to 
meet  again.  The  day  becoming  decidedly  rainy,  we  returned 
along  the  Boulevards  by  the  Bridge  of  Austerlitz,  but  the 
weather  was  so  indifferent  as  to  spoil  the  fine  show. 

We  dined  at  the  Ambassador's — Lord  Granville,  formerly 
Lord  Leveson  Gower.  He  inhabits  the  same  splendid  house 
which  Lord  Castlereagh  had  in  1815,  namely,  Numero  30, 
Rue  du  Fauxbourg  St.  Honore*.  It  once  belonged  to  Pauline 
Borghese,  and  if  its  walls  could  speak,  they  might  tell  us 
mighty  curious  stories.  Without  their  having  any  tongue, 
they  spoke  to  my  feelings  "with  most  miraculous  organ."1 
In  these  halls  I  had  often  seen  and  conversed  familiarly 
with  many  of  the  great  and  powerful,  who  won  the  world 
by  their  swords,  and  divided  it  by  their  counsel. 

Here  I  saw  very  much  of  poor  Lord  Castlereagh — a  man 
of  sense,  presence  of  mind,  courage,  and  fortitude,  which 
carried  him  through  many  an  affair  of  critical  moment,  when 
finer  talents  might  have  stuck  in  the  mire.  He  had  been, 
I  think,  indifferently  educated,  and  his  mode  of  speaking 
being  far  from  logical  or  correct,  he  was  sometimes  in  danger 
of  becoming  almost  ridiculous,  in  spite  of  his  lofty  presence, 
which  had  all  the  grace  of  the  Seymours,  and  his  determined 
courage.2  But  then  he  was  always  up  to  the  occasion,  and 
upon  important  matters  was  an  orator  to  convince,  if  not  to 
delight,  his  hearers.  He  is  gone,  and  my  friend  Stanhope 
also,  whose  kindness  this  town  so  strongly  recalls.  It  is  re- 
markable they  were  the  only  persons  of  sense  and  credibility 

just  lost  her  second  husband,  who         2  The  following  mixed  metaphor 

is  remembered  by  his  magnificent  is  said  to  have  been  taken  from  one 

editions  of    Camoens"  Lusiad,   on  of  his  speeches : — "  Ministers  were 

which  it  is  said  he    spent  about  not   to    look    on    like    Crocodiles, 

£4000.   Mme.  de  Souza  died  in  1836.  with  their  hands  in  their  breeches' 

1  Hamlet,  Act  n.  Sc.  2.  pockets,  doing  nothing." 


292  JOURNAL.  [Nov. 

who  both  attested  supernatural  appearances  on  their  own  evi- 
dence, and  both  died  in  the  same  melancholy  manner.  I  shall 
always  tremble  when  any  friend  of  mine  becomes  visionary.1 

I  have  seen  in  these  rooms  the  Emperor  Alexander, 
Platoff,  Schwarzenberg,  old  Blucher,  Fouche,  and  many  a 
marechal  whose  truncheon  had  guided  armies — all  now  at 
peace,  without  subjects,  without  dominion,  and  where  their 
past  life,  perhaps,  seems  but  the  recollection  of  a  feverish 
dream.  What  a  group  would  this  band  have  made  in  the 
gloomy  regions  described  in  the  Odyssey !  But  to  lesser 
things.  We  were  most  kindly  received  by  Lord  and  Lady 
Granville,  and  met  many  friends,  some  of  them  having  been 
guests  at  Abbotsford ;  among  these  were  Lords  Ashley  and 
Morpeth — there  were  also  Charles  Ellis  (Lord  Seaford  now), 
cum  plurimis  aliis.  Anne  saw  for  the  first  time  an  enter- 
tainment &  la  mode  de  France,  where  the  gentlemen  left  the 
parlour  with  the  ladies.  In  diplomatic  houses  it  is  a  good 
way  of  preventing  political  discussion,  which  John  Bull  is 
always  apt  to  introduce  with  the  second  bottle.  We  left 
early,  and  came  home  at  ten,  much  pleased  with  Lord  and 
Lady  Granville's  kindness,  though  it  was  to  be  expected,  as 
our  recommendations  came  from  Windsor. 

November  2. — Another  gloomy  day — a  pize  upon  it ! — 
and  we  have  settled  to  go  to  Saint  Cloud,  and  dine,  if  pos- 
sible, with  the  Drummonds  at  Auteuil.  Besides,  I  expect 
poor  W.  E.  S[pencer]  to  breakfast.  There  is  another 
thought  which  depresses  me. 

Well — but  let  us  jot  down  a  little  politics,  as  my  book 
has  a  pretty  firm  lock.  The  Whigs  may  say  what  they 
please,  but  I  think  the  Bourbons  will  stand.  Gallois,  no 

1  The    story    regarding    Castle-  Lord  Castlereagh  stepping  forward 

reagh'a  Eadiant  Boy,  is  that  one  to  meet  it,  the  figure  retired  again, 

night,  when  he  was  in  barracks  and  and  as  he  advanced  it  gradually 

alone,  he  saw  a  figure  glide  from  faded  from  his  view.      Sir  Walter 

the    fireplace,   the    face  becoming  does  not  tell  us  of  his  friend  Stau- 

brighter  as  it  approached  him.    On  hope's  ghostly  experience. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  293 

great  Royalist,  says  that  the  Duke  of  Orleans  lives  on  the 
best  terms  with  the  reigning  family,  which  is  wise  on  his 
part,  for  the  golden  fruit  may  ripen  and  fall  of  itself,  but  it 
would  be  dangerous  to 

"  Lend  the  crowd  his  arm  to  shake  the  tree." l 
The  army,  which  was  Bonaparte's  strength,  is  now  very 
much  changed  by  the  gradual  influence  of  time,  which  has 
removed  many,  and  made  invalids  of  many  more.  The 
citizens  are  neutral,  and  if  the  King  will  govern  according  to 
the  Charte,  and,  what  is  still  more,  according  to  the  habits  of 
the  people,  he  will  sit  firm  enough,  and  the  constitution  will 
gradually  attain  more  and  more  reverence  as  age  gives  it 
authority,  and  distinguishes  it  from  those  temporary  and 
ephemeral  governments,  which  seemed  only  set  up  to  be 
pulled  down.  The  most  dangerous  point  in  the  present 
state  of  France  is  that  of  religion.  It  is,  no  doubt,  excellent 
in  the  Bourbons  to  desire  to  make  France  a  religious 
country;  but  they  begin,  I  think,  at  the  wrong  end.  To 
press  the  observances  and  ritual  of  religion  on  those  who  are 
not  influenced  by  its  doctrines  is  planting  the  growing  tree 
with  its  head  downwards.  Rites  are  sanctified  by  belief; 
but  belief  can  never  arise  out  of  an  enforced  observance  of 
ceremonies ;  it  only  makes  men  detest  what  is  imposed  on 
them  by  compulsion.  Then  these  Jesuits,  who  constitute 
emphatically  an  imperium  in  imperio,  labouring  first  for  the 
benefit  of  their  own  order,  and  next  for  that  of  the  Roman 
See — what  is  it  but  the  introduction  into  France  of  a  foreign 
influence,  whose  interest  may  often  run  counter  to  the 
general  welfare  of  the  kingdom  ? 

We  have  enough  of  ravishment.  M.  Meurice  writes  me 
that  he  is  ready  to  hang  himself  that  we  did  not  find 
accommodation  at  his  hotel ;  and  Madame  Mirbel  came  almost 
on  her  knees  to  have  permission  to  take  my  portrait.  I  was 
cruel;  but,  seeing  her  weeping-ripe,  consented  she  should 

1  Dryden's  Absalom  and  Achitopkel — Character  of  Shaftesbury. — j.  G.  L. 


294  JOURNAL.  [Nov. 

come  to-morrow  and  work  while  I  wrote.  A  Eussian 
Princess  Galitzin,  too,  demands  to  see  me  in  the  heroic  vein ; 
" Elle  vouloit  traverser  les  triers  pour  aller  voir  S.  W.  S."  and 
offers  me  a  rendezvous  at  my  hotel.  This  is  precious  tom- 
foolery ;  however,  it  is  better  than  being  neglected  like  a 
fallen  sky-rocket,  which  seemed  like  to  be  my  fate  last  year. 

We  went  to  Saint  Cloud  with  my  old  friend  Mr. 
Drummond,  now  at  a  pretty  maison  de  campagne  at  Auteuil. 
Saint  Cloud,  besides  its  unequalled  views,  is  rich  in  remem- 
brances. I  did  not  fail  to  revisit  the  Orangerie,  out  of  which 
Bon.  expelled  the  Council  of  [Five  Hundred].  I  thought  I 
saw  the  scoundrels  jumping  the  windows,  with  the  bayonets 
at  their  rumps.  What  a  pity  the  house  was  not  two  stories 
high !  I  asked  the  Swiss  some  questions  on  the  locale,  which 
he  answered  with  becoming  caution,  saying,  however,  that 
"he  was  not  present  at  the  time."  There  are  also  new 
remembrances.  A  separate  garden,  laid  out  as  a  playground 
for  the  royal  children,  is  called  II  Trocadero,1  from  the  siege 
of  Cadiz  [1823].  But  the  Bourbons  should  not  take  military 
ground — it  is  firing  a  pop-gun  in  answer  to  a  battery  of  cannon. 

All  within  the  house  is  changed.  Every  trace  of  Nap. 
or  his  reign  totally  done  away,  as  if  traced  in  sand  over 
which  the  tide  has  passed.  Moreau  and  Pichegru's  portraits 
hang  in  the  royal  ante- chamber.  The  former  has  a  mean 
look;  the  latter  has  been  a  strong  and  stern-looking  man. 
I  looked  at  him,  and  thought  of  his  death-struggles.  In  the 
guard-room  were  the  heroes  of  La  Vendee — Charette  with 
his  white  bonnet,  the  two  La  Rochejacqueleins,  Lescure,  in 
an  attitude  of  prayer,  Stofflet,  the  gamekeeper,  with  others. 

We  dined  at  Auteuil.  Mrs.  Drummond,  formerly  the 
beautiful  Cecilia  Telfer,  has  lost  her  looks,  but  kept  her 
kind  heart.  On  our  return,  went  to  the  Italian  opera, 

1  The  name  has  since  been  be-  built  the  Palace  in  connection  with 
stowed  on  the  high  ground  on  the  the  International  Exhibition  of 
bank  of  the  Seine,  on  which  was  1878. 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  295 

and  saw  Figaro.  Anne  liked  the  music;  to  me  it  was 

all  caviare.  A  Mr. dined  with  us ;  sensible,  liberal  in 

his  politics,  but  well  informed  and  candid. 

November  3. — Sat  to  Mad.  Mirbel — Spencer  at  breakfast. 
Went  out  and  had  a  long  interview  with  Marshal  Macdonald, 
the  purport  of  which  I  have  put  down  elsewhere.  Visited 
Princess  Galitzin,  and  also  Cooper,  the  American  novelist. 
This  man,  who  has  shown  so  much  genius,  has  a  good  deal 
of  the  manner,  or  want  of  manner,  peculiar  to  his  country- 
men.1 He  proposed  to  me  a  mode  of  publishing  in 
America  by  entering  the  book  as  [the]  property  of  a 
citizen.  I  will  think  of  this.  Every  little  helps,  as  the 
tod  says,  when,  etc.  At  night  at  the  Theatre  de  Madame, 
where  we  saw  two  petit  pieces,  Le  Manage  de  Raison,  and 
Le  plus  beau  jour  de  ma  me — both  excellently  played. 
Afterwards  at  Lady  Granville's  rout,  which  was  as  splendid 
as  any  I  ever  saw — and  I  have  seen  beaucoup  dans  ce  genre. 
A  great  number  of  ladies  of  the  first  rank  were  present,  and 
if  honeyed  words  from  pretty  lips  could  surfeit,  I  had 
enough  of  them.  One  can  swallow  a  great  deal  of  whipped 
cream,  to  be  sure,  and  it  does  not  hurt  an  old  stomach. 

November   4. — Anne  goes   to   sit   to   Mad.   Mirbel.      I 

1  It  should  be  noted  that  Scott  to    bandy   compliments    with    my 

wrote  "manner "not  "manners,"  sovereign."     These    two    "lions" 

as    in    all    previous    editions    the  met  on  four  occasions,  viz.,  on  the 

word  is  printed.      Of  Cooper,  his  3d,  4th,  and  6th  November,  Scott 

latest   American    biographer,   Mr.  leaving  Paris  next  day. 

Lounsbury,  says  there  was  in  his  It  cannot  be  too  widely  known 

manner  at  times  ' '  a  self-assertion  that   if    Scott   never  derived  any 

that  often  bordered,  or  seemed  to  profits  from  the  enormous  sale  of  his 

border,  on  arrogance"  (p.  79).  works  in  America,  it  was  not  the 

Of  this  interview,  Cooper  is  said  fault  of  his  brother  author,  who 

to   have   recorded  in    after   years  urged  him   repeatedly   to  try  the 

that  Scott  was  so   obliging  as  to  plan  here  proposed.     Whether  the 

make  him   a  number  of  flattering  attempt  was  made  is  unknown,  but 

speeches,  which,   however,  he  did  it  is  amusing  to  see  one  cause  of 

not  repay  in  kind,  giving,  as  a  reason  Scott's  hesitation  was  the  fear  that 

for  his  silence,  the  words  of  Dr.  the  American  public  would  not  get 

Johnson  regarding  his  meeting  with  his  works  at  the  low  prices  to  which 

George  in.:   "It  was  not  for  me  they  had  been  accustomed. 


296  JOUKNAL.  [Nov. 

called  after  ten,  Mr.  Cooper  and  Gallois  having  breakfasted 
with  me.  The  former  seems  quite  serious  in  desiring  the 
American  attempt.  I  must,  however,  take  care  not  to  give 
such  a  monopoly  as  to  prevent  the  American  public  from 
receiving  the  works  at  the  prices  they  are  accustomed  to. 
I  think  I  may  as  well  try  if  the  thing  can  be  done. 

After  ten  I  went  with  Anne  to  the  Tuileries,  where  we 
saw  the  royal  family  pass  through  the  Glass  Gallery  as 
they  went  to  Chapel.  We  were  very  much  looked  at  in 
our  turn,  and  the  King,  on  passing  out,  did  me  the  honour 
to  say  a  few  civil  words,  which  produced  a  great  sensation. 
Mad.  la  Dauphine  and  Mad.  de  Berri  curtsied,  smiled, 
and  looked  extremely  gracious;  and  smiles,  bows,  and 
curtsies  rained  on  us  like  odours,  from  all  the  courtiers 
and  court  ladies  of  the  train.  We  were  conducted  by  an 
officer  of  the  Koyal  Gardes  du  Corps  to  a  convenient  place 
in  chapel,  where  we  had  the  pleasure  of  hearing  the  grand 
mass  performed  with  excellent  music. 

I  had  a  perfect  view  of  the  King  and  royal  family. 
The  King  is  the  same  in  age  as  I  knew  him  in  youth 
at  Holyrood  House — debonair  and  courteous  in  the  highest 
degree.  Mad.  Dauphine  resembles  very  much  the  prints 
of  Marie  Antoinette,  in  the  profile  especially.  She  is  not, 
however,  beautiful,  her  features  being  too  strong,  but  they 
announce  a  great  deal  of  character,  and  the  princess  whom 
Bonaparte  used  to  call  the  man  of  the  family  She  seemed 
very  attentive  to  her  devotions.  The  Duchess  of  Berri 
seemed  less  immersed  in  the  ceremony,  and  yawned  once 
or  twice.  She  is  a  lively-looking  blonde — looks  as  if  she 
were  good-humoured  and  happy,  by  no  means  pretty,  and 
has  a  cast  with  her  eyes ;  splendidly  adorned  with  diamonds, 
however.  After  this  gave  Mad.  Mirbel  a  sitting,  where  I 
encountered  le  general,  her  uncle,1  who  was  chef  de  letat 
major  to  Bonaparte.  He  was  very  communicative,  and 
seemed  an  interesting  person,  by  no  means  over  much 

1  General  Monthion. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  297 

prepossessed  in  favour  of  his  late  master,  whom  he  judged 
impartially,  though  with  affection. 

We  came  home  and  dined  in  quiet,  having  refused  all 
temptations  to  go  out  in  the  evening;  this  on  Anne's 
account  as  well  as  my  own.  It  is  not  quite  gospel,  though 
Solomon  says  it — the  eye  can  be  tired  with  seeing,  what- 
ever he  may  allege  in  the  contrary.  And  then  there  are  so 
many  compliments.  I  wish  for  a  little  of  the  old  Scotch 
causticity.  I  am  something  like  the  bee  that  sips  treacle. 

Noveniber  5. — I  believe  I  must  give  up  my  Journal  till 
I  leave  Paris.  The  French  are  literally  outrageous  in 
their  civilities — bounce  in  at  all  hours,  and  drive  one  half 
mad  with  compliments.  I  am  ungracious  not  to  be  so 
entirely  thankful  as  I  ought  to  this  kind  and  merry  people. 
We  breakfasted  with  Mad.  Mirbel,  where  were  the  Dukes 
of  Fitz- James,  and,  I  think,  Duras,1  goodly  company — but 
all's  one  for  that.  I  made  rather  an  impatient  sitter, 
wishing  to  talk  much  more  than  was  agreeable  to  Madame. 
Afterwards  we  went  to  the  Champs  Elyse"es,  where  a  balloon 
was  let  off,  and  all  sorts  of  frolics  performed  for  the  benefit 
of  the  Ions  gens  de  Paris — besides  stuffing  them  with  victuals. 
I  wonder  how  such  a  civic  festival  would  go  off  in  London 
or  Edinburgh,  or  especially  in  Dublin.  To  be  sure,  they 
would  not  introduce  their  shillelahs !  But  in  the  classic 
taste  of  the  French,  there  were  no  such  gladiatorial  doings. 
To  be  sure,  they  have  a  natural  good-humour  and  gaiety 
which  inclines  them  to  be  pleased  with  themselves,  and 
everything  about  them. 

We  dined  at  the  Ambassador's,  where  was  a  large  party, 
Lord  Morpeth,  the  Duke  of  Devonshire,  and  others — all  were 
very  kind.  Pozzo  di  Borgo  there,  and  disposed  to  be  com- 
municative. A  large  soiree.  Home  at  eleven.  These  hours 
are  early,  however. 

1  Fitz-James  was  great-grandson     Sedgemoor.     Both  died  in  the  same 
of  James  n.,  and  Duras  was  related     year,  1835. 
to  Feversham,  James's  general   at 


298  .          JOURNAL.  [Nov. 

November  6. — Cooper  came  to  breakfast,  but  we  were 
obstdts  partout.  Such  a  number  of  Frenchmen  bounced  in 
successively,  and  exploded,  I  mean  discharged,  their  compli- 
ments, that  I  could  hardly  find  an  opportunity  to  speak  a 
word,  or  entertain  Mr.  Cooper  at  all.  After  this  we  sat 
again  for  our  portraits.  Mad.  Mirbel  took  care  not  to  have 
any  one  to  divert  my  attention,  but  I  contrived  to  amuse 
myself  with  some  masons  finishing  a  faqade  opposite  to 
me,  who  placed  their  stones,  not  like  Inigo  Jones,  but  in 
the  most  lubberly  way  in  the  world,  with  the  help  of  a 
large  wheel,  and  the  application  of  strength  of  hand.  John 
Smith  of  Darnick,  and  two  of  his  men,  would  have  done 
more  with  a  block  and  pulley  than  the  whole  score  of  them. 
The  French  seem  far  behind  in  machinery. — We  are  almost 
eaten  up  with  kindness,  but  that  will  have  its  end.  1  have 
had  to  parry  several  presents  of  busts,  and  so  forth.  The 
funny  thing  was  the  airs  of  my  little  friend.  We  had  ? 
most  affectionate  parting — wet,  wet  cheeks  on  the  lady's 
side.1  The  pebble-hearted  cur  shed  as  few  tears  as  Crab  of 
dogged  memory.2 

Went  to  Galignani's,  where  the  brothers,  after  some 
palaver,  offered  me  £105  for  the  sheets  of  Napoleon,  to  be 
reprinted  at  Paris  in  English.  I  told  them  I  would  think  of  it. 
I  suppose  Treuttel  and  Wurtz  had  apprehended  something 
of  this  kind,  for  they  write  me  that  they  had  made  a  bargain 
with  my  publisher  (Cadell,  I  suppose)  for  the  publishing  of 
my  book  in  all  sorts  of  ways.  I  must  look  into  this. 

Dined  with  Marshal  Macdonald  and  a  splendid  party ; 3 

1  Madame   Mirbel,   who  painted     miniature  which  has  been  engraved 
Scott  at  this  time,  continued  to  be      at  least  once— by  J.  T.  Wedgwood. 

a  favourite  artist  with  the  French         „  ~       „      ,  ,.  T, 

IT>          _L-  j.     T»      j.  j     f\  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  Act 

(Bonapartist.    Bourbon,     and     Or-  ,,     0 

;     .  f, ,    '  ii.  Sc.  3.— j.  G.  L. 

leanist)  for  the  next  twenty  years. 

Among  her  latest  sitters  (1841)  was  3  The  Marshal  had  visited  Scot- 
Scott's  angry  correspondent  of  four  land  in  1825 — and  Scott  saw  a  good 
months  later — General  Gourgaud.  deal  of  him  under  the  roof  of  his 
Madame  Mirbel  died  in  1849.  The  kinsman,  Mr.  Macdonald  Buchanan, 
portrait  alluded  to  was  probably  a  — J.  G.  i*. 


1826.]  JOURNAL,  299 

amongst  others,  Marshal  Marmont — middle  size,  stout-made, 
dark  complexion,  and  looks  sensible.  The  French  hate  him 
much  for  his  conduct  in  1814,  but  it  is  only  making  him 
the  scape-goat.  Also,  I  saw  Mons.  de  Mole,  but  especially  the 
Marquis  de  Lauriston,  who  received  me  most  kindly.  He  is 
personally  like  my  cousin  Colonel  Eussell.  I  learned  that  his 
brother,  Louis  Law,1  my  old  friend,  was  alive,  and  the  father 
of  a  large  family.  I  was  most  kindly  treated,  and  had  my 
vanity  much  flattered  by  the  men  who  had  acted  such  im- 
portant parts  talking  to  me  in  the  most  frank  manner. 

In  the  evening  to  Princess  Galitzin,  where  were  a  whole 
covey  of  Princesses  of  Russia  arrayed  in  tartan !  with  music 
and  singing  to  boot.  The  person  in  whom  I  was  most  in- 
terested was  Mad.  de  Boufflers,2  upwards  of  eighty,  very 
polite,  very  pleasant,  and  with  all  the  agrtmens  of  a  French 
Court  lady  of  the  time  of  Mad.  Se*vigne,  or  of  the  corre- 
spondent rather  of  Horace  Walpole.  Cooper  was  there,  so 
the  Scotch  and  American  lions  took  the  field  together. — 
Home,  and  settled  our  affairs  to  depart. 

1  Lauriston,  the  ancient  seat  of  Saujon  Comtesse  de  Boufflers],  the 
the    Laws,   so  famous   in    French  correspondent  not  only  of  Walpole, 
history,  is  very  near  Edinburgh,  but  of  David  Hume,  must  have  been 
and  the  estate  was  in  their  posses-  nearer  a  hundred  than  eighty  years 
sion  at  the  time  of  the  Revolution,  of  age  at  this   date,  if  we  are  to 
Two  or  three  cadets  of  the  family  believe  the  Biographie  Universelle, 
were   of  the  first  emigration,  and  which  gives  1724  as  the  date  of  her 
one  of  them  (M.  Louis  Law)  was  a  birth.       It    does    not    record    her 
frequent  guest  of  the  Poet's  father,  death.     It  is  known  that  she  took 
and  afterwards  corresponded  dur-  refuge  in  England  during  the  Revo- 
ing  many  years  with  himself.    I  am  lution  ;  but  Count  Paul  de  Remusat, 
not  sure  whether  it  was  M.  Louis  who  has  been  consulted  on  the  sub- 
Law  whose  French  designation  so  ject,  has  kindly  pointed  out  that  the 
much  amused  the  people  of  Edin-  lady  of  whom  Scott  speaks  must 
burgh.    One  brother  of  the  Marquis  have  been  the  widow  of  the  Chevalier 
de  Lauriston,  however,  was  styled  de  Boufflers-Remencourt,  known  by 
Le  Chevalier  de  Mutton-hole,  this  his  poems  and  stories.    Her  maiden 
being  the  name  of  a  village  on  the  name  was  de  Jean  de  Manville,  and 
Scotch  property. — J.  G.  L.  her  first  husband  was  a  Comte  de 

Sabran.    She  died  in  1827.—  See  Cor- 

2  The  Madame  de  Boufflers  best     respondance  inedite  de  la  Comtesse 
known  to  the  world  [Hippolyte  de     de  Sabran,  Paris,  8vo,  1875. 


300  JOUKNAL.  [Nov. 

November  7. — Off  at  seven ;  breakfasted  at  Beaumont,  and 
pushed  on  to  Airaines.  This  being  a  forced  march,  we  had  bad 
lodgings,  wet  wood,  uncomfortable  supper,  damp  beds,  and  an 
extravagant  charge.  I  was  never  colder  in  my  life  than  when 
I  waked  with  the  sheets  clinging  round  me  like  a  shroud. 

November  8. — We  started  at  six  in  the  morning,  having 
no  need  to  be  called  twice,  so  heartily  was  I  weary  of  my 
comfortless  couch.  Breakfasted  at  Abbeville ;  then  pushed 
on  to  Boulogne,  expecting  to  find  the  packet  ready  to  start 
next  morning,  and  so  to  have  had  the  advantage  of  the 
easterly  tide.  But,  lo  ye !  the  packet  was  not  to  sail  till 
next  day.  So  after  shrugging  our  shoulders — being  the 
solace  a  la  mode  tie  France — and  recruiting  ourselves  with  a 
pullet  and  a  bottle  of  Chablis  a  la  mode  d'Angleterre,  we  set 
off  for  Calais  after  supper,  and  it  was  betwixt  three  and  four 
in  the  morning  before  we  got  to  Dessein's,  when  the  house 
was  full,  or  reported  to  be  so.  We  could  only  get  two 
wretched  brick-paved  garrets,  as  cold  and  moist  as  those  of 
Airaines,  instead  of  the  comforts  which  we  were  received 
with  at  our  arrival.  But  I  was  better  prepared.  Stripped 
off  the  sheets,  and  lay  down  in  my  dressing-gown,  and  so 
roughed  it  out — tant  lien  que  mal. 

November  9. — At  four  in  the  morning  we  were  called ;  at 
six  we  got  on  board  the  packet,  where  I  found  a  sensible 
and  conversible  man — a  very  pleasant  circumstance.  The 
day  was  raw  and  cold,  the  wind  and  tide  surly  and  contrary, 
the  passage  slow,  and  Anne,  contrary  to  her  wont,  excessively 
sick.  We  had  little  trouble  at  the  Custom  House,  thanks 
to  the  secretary  of  the  Embassy,  Mr.  Jones,  who  gave  me  a 
letter  to  Mr.  Ward.  [At  Dover]  Mr.  Ward  came  with  the 
Lieutenant-Governor  of  the  castle,  and  wished  us  to  visit  that 
ancient  fortress.  I  regretted  much  that  our  time  was  short, 
and  the  weather  did  not  admit  of  our  seeing  views,  so  we 
could  only  thank  the  gentlemen  in  declining  their  civility. 

The  castle,  partly  ruinous,  seems  to  have  been  very  fine. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  301 

The  Cliff,  to  which  Shakespeare  gave  his  immortal  name,  is, 
as  all  the  world  knows,  a  great  deal  lower  than  his  description 
implies.  Our  Dover  friends,  justly  jealous  of  the  reputation 
of  their  cliff,  impute  this  diminution  of  its  consequence  to  its 
having  fallen  in  repeatedly  since  the  poet's  time.  I  think  it 
more  likely  that  the  imagination  of  Shakespeare,  writing  per- 
haps at  a  period  long  after  he  may  have  seen  the  rock,  had  de- 
scribed it  such  as  he  conceived  it  to  have  been.  Besides,  Shake- 
speare was  born  in  a  flat  country,  and  Dover  Cliff  is  at  least 
lofty  enough  to  have  suggested  the  exaggerated  features  to  his 
fancy.  At  all  events,  it  has  maintained  its  reputation  better 
than  the  Tarpeian  Rock; — no  man  could  leap  from  it  and  live. 

Left  Dover  after  a  hot  luncheon  about  four  o'clock,  and 
reached  London  at  half-past  three  in  the  morning.  So  adieu 
to  la  'belle  France,  and  welcome  merry  England.1 

[Pall  Mall,]  November  10. — Ere'  I  leave  la  belle  France, 
however,  it  is  fit  I  should  express  my  gratitude  for  the 
unwontedly  kind  reception  which  I  met  with  at  all  hands. 
It  would  be  an  unworthy  piece  of  affectation  did  I  not  allow 
that  I  have  been  pleased — highly  pleased — to  find  a  species 
of  literature  intended  only  for  my  own  country  has  met 
such  an  extensive  and  favourable  reception  in  a  foreign  land, 
where  there  was  so  much  a  priori  to  oppose  its  progress. 

For  my  work  I  think  I  have  done  a  good  deal;  but, 
above  all,  I  have  been  confirmed  strongly  in  the  impressions 
I  had  previously  formed  of  the  character  of  Nap.,  and  may 
attempt  to  draw  him  with  a  firmer  hand. 

The  succession  of  new  people  and  unusual  incidents  has 
had  a  favourable  effect  [on  my  mind],  which  was  becoming 
rutted  like  an  ill-kept  highway.  My  thoughts  have  for 
some  time  flowed  in  another  and  pleasanter  channel  than 
through  the  melancholy  course  into  which  my  solitary  and 

1  Readers  who  may  wish  to  com-     find  a  brilliant  record  of  the  latter 
pare  with  the  visit  of  1826  Scott's     in  Pa-uTs  Letters,  xii.-xvi. 
impressions  of  Paris  in  1815  will 


302 


JOURNAL. 


[Nov. 


deprived  state  had  long  driven  them,  and  which  gave  often 
pain  to  be  endured  without  complaint,  and  without  sympathy. 
"  For  this  relief,"  as  Francisco  says  in  Hamlet,  "much  thanks." 

To-day  I  visited  the  public  offices,  and  prosecuted  my 
researches.  Left  inquiries  for  the  Duke  of  York,  who  has 
recovered  from  a  most  desperate  state.  His  legs  had  been 
threatened  with  mortification ;  but  he  was  saved  by  a  critical 
discharge;  also  visited  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  Lord  Melville, 
and  others,  besides  the  ladies  in  Piccadilly.  Dined  and 
spent  the  evening  quietly  in  Pall  Mall. 

November  11. — Croker  came  to  breakfast,  and  we  were 
soon  after  joined  by  Theodore  Hook,  alias  "  John  Bull " x;  he 
has  got  as  fat  as  the  actual  monarch  of  the  herd.  Lockhart 
sat  still  with  us,  and  we  had,  as  Gil  Bias  says,  a  delicious 
morning,  spent  in  abusing  our  neighbours,  at  which  my 
three  neighbours  are  no  novices  any  more  than  I  am  myself. 


1  A  Sunday  newspaper  started  in 
1820,  to  advocate  the  cause  of 
George  iv.,  and  to  vilify  the 
Queen  and  her  friends,  male  and 
female.  The  first  number  was 
published  on  December  17th,  and 
"  told  at  once  from  the  convulsed 
centre  to  the  extremity  of  the 
Kingdom.  There  was  talent  of 
every  sort  in  the  paper  that  could 
have  been  desired  or  devised  for  such 
a  purpose.  It  seemed  as  if  a  legion 
of  sarcastic  devils  had  brooded  in 
Synod  over  the  elements  of  wither- 
ing derision."  Hook,  however, 
was  the  master  spirit,  the  majority 
of  the  lampoons  in  prose,  and  all  the 
original  poetry  in  the  early  volumes 
from  the  "Hunting  the  Hare," 
were  from  his  own  pen,  except,  per- 
haps, "Michael's  Dinner,"  which 
has  been  laid  at  Canning's  door. 

Oddly  enough  Scott  appears  to 
have  been  the  indirect  means  of 
placing  Hook  in  the  editorial  chair. 
When  he  was  in  London,  in  April 


1820,  a  nobleman  called  upon  him, 
and  asked  if  he  could  find  him  in 
Edinburgh  some  clever  fellow  to 
undertake  the  editorship  of  a  paper 
about  to  be  established.  Sir  Walter 
suggested  that  hisLordship  need  not 
go  so  far  a-field,  described  Hook's 
situation,  and  the  impression  he 
had  received  of  him  from  his  table 
talk,  and  his  Magazine,  the  Arca- 
dian. This  was  all  that  occurred, 
but  when,  towards  the  end  of  the 
year,  John  Butt  electrified  London, 
Sir  Walter  confessed  that  he  could 
not  help  fancying  that  his  mention- 
ing this  man's  name  had  had  its 
consequences. 

Hook,  in  spite  of  his  £2000  per 
annum  for  several  years  from  John 
Bull,  and  large  prices  received  for 
his  novels,  died  in  poverty  in  1841, 
a  prematurely  aged  man.  His  sad 
story  may  be  read  in  a  most  power- 
ful sketch  in  the  Quarterly  Review, 
attributed  to  Mr.  Lockhart. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  303 

though  (like  Puss  in  Boots,  who  only  caught  mice  for  his 
amusement)  I  am  only  a  chamber  counsel  in  matters  of 
scandal.  The  fact  is,  I  have  refrained,  as  much  as  human 
frailty  will  permit,  from  all  satirical  composition.  Here  is 
an  ample  subject  for  a  little  black-balling  in  the  case  of 
Joseph  Hume,  the  great  ^Economist,  who  has  [managed]  the 
Greek  loan  so  egregiously.  I  do  not  lack  personal  provocation 
(see  1 3th  March  last),  yet  I  won't  attack  him — at  present  at 
least — but  gu'il  se  garde  de  nwi : 

"  I  'm  not  a  king,  nor  nae  sic  thing, 

My  word  it  may  not  stand  ; 
And  Joseph  may  a  buffet  bide, 
Come  he  beneath  my  brand." 

At  dinner  we  had  a  little  blow-out  on  Sophia's  part: 
Lord  Dudley,  Mr.  Hay,  Under  Secretary  of  State,  [Sir  Thomas 
Lawrence,  etc.]  Mistress  (as  she  now  calls  herself)  Joanna 
Baillie,  and  her  sister,  came  in  the  evening.  The  whole 
went  off  pleasantly. 

November  12. — Went  to  sit  to  Sir  T.  L.  to  finish  the 
picture  for  his  Majesty,  which  every  one  says  is  a  very  fine 
one.  I  think  so  myself ;  and  wonder  how  Sir  Thomas  has 
made  so  much  out  of  an  old  weather-beaten  block.  But  I 
believe  the  hard  features  of  old  Dons  like  myself  are  more 
within  the  compass  of  the  artist's  skill  than  the  lovely  face 
and  delicate  complexion  of  females.  Came  home  after  a 

heavy  shower.  I  had  a  long  conversation  about with 

Lockhart.  All  that  was  whispered  is  true — a  sign  how  much 
better  our  domestics  are  acquainted  with  the  private  affairs 
of  our  neighbours  than  we  are.  A  dreadful  tale  of  incest 
and  seduction,  and  nearly  of  blood  also — horrible  beyond 
expression  in  its  complications  and  events — "  And  yet  the 
end  is  not ;  " — and  this  man  was  amiable,  and  seemed  the 
soul  of  honour — laughed,  too,  and  was  the  soul  of  society. 
It  is  a  mercy  our  own  thoughts  are  concealed  from  each  other. 
Oh  !  if,  at  our  social  table,  we  could  see  what  passes  in  each 


304  JOUKNAL.  [Nov. 

bosom  around,  we  would  seek  dens  and  caverns  to  shun 
human  society!  To  see  the  projector  trembling  for  his 
falling  speculations ;  the  voluptuary  rueing  the  event  of  his 
debauchery ;  the  miser  wearing  out  his  soul  for  the  loss  of 
a  guinea — all — all  bent  upon  vain  hopes  and  vainer  regrets — 
we  should  not  need  to  go  to  the  hall  of  the  Caliph  Vathek  to 
see  men's  hearts  broiling  under  their  black  veils.1  Lord  keep 
us  from  all  temptation,  for  we  cannot  be  our  own  shepherd ! 

We  dined  to-day  at  Lady  Stafford's  [at  West-hill].2  Lord 
S.  looks  very  poorly,  but  better  than  I  expected.  No  com- 
pany, excepting  Sam  Eogers  and  Mr.  Grenville,3 — the  latter 
is  better  known  by  the  name  of  Tom  Grenville — a  very 
amiable  and  accomplished  man,  whom  I  knew  better  about 
twenty  years  since.  Age  has  touched  him,  as  it  has  doubt- 
less affected  me.  The  great  lady  received  us  with  the  most 
cordial  kindness,  and  expressed  herself,  I  am  sure,  sincerely, 
desirous  to  be  of  service  to  Sophia. 

November  13. — I  consider  Charles's  business  as  settled 
by  a  private  intimation  which  I  had  to  that  effect  from 
Sir  W.  K. ;  so  I  need  negotiate  no  further,  but  wait  the  event. 
Breakfasted  at  home,  and  somebody  with  us,  but  the  whirl 
of  visits  so  great  that  I  have  already  forgot  the  party.  Lock- 
hart  and  I  dined  at  an  official  person's,  where  there  was  a 
little  too  much  of  that  sort  of  flippant  wit,  or  rather  smart- 
ness, which  becomes  the  parochial  Joe  Miller  of  boards  and 
offices.  You  must  not  be  grave,  because  it  might  lead  to 
improper  discussions  ;  and  to  laugh  without  a  joke  is  a  hard 
task.  Your  professed  wags  are  treasures  to  this  species  of 
company.  Gil  Bias  was  right  in  censuring  the  literary 
society  of  his  friend  Fabricio ;  but  nevertheless  one  or  two 

1  See  Beckford's  Vathek,  Hall  of     joying  the  satisfaction  they  must 
Eblis.  have  given  him. " — Sharpe's  Letters, 

2  Lady  Stafford  says  :  "We  were      vol.  ii.  p.  379. 

so  lucky  as  to  have  Sir  W.  Scott  «  The  Right  Hon.  Thomas  Gren- 

here  for  a  day,  and  were  glad  to  see  ville  died    in  1846  at  the  age  of 

him  look  well,  and  though  perfectly  ninety -one.     He  left  his  noble  col- 

unaltered  by  his  successes,  yet  en-  lection  of  books  to  the  nation. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  305 

of  the  mess  would  greatly  have  improved  the  conversation 
of  his  Commis. 

Went  to  poor  Lydia  White's,  and  found  her  extended 
on  a  couch,  frightfully  swelled,  unable  to  stir,  rouged, 
jesting,  and  dying.  She  has  a  good  heart,  and  is  really  a 
clever  creature,  but  unhappily,  or  rather  happily,  she  has  set 
up  the  whole  staff  of  her  rest  in  keeping  literary  society 
about  her.  The  world  has  not  neglected  her.  It  is  not  al- 
ways so  bad  as  it  is  called.  She  can  always  make  up  her 
soiree,  and  generally  has  some  people  of  real  talent  and  dis- 
tinction. She  is  wealthy,  to  be  sure,  and  gives  petit  dinners, 
but  not  in  a  style  to  carry  the  point  a  force  cFargent.  In 
her  case  the  world  is  good-natured,  and  perhaps  it  is  more 
frequently  so  than  is  generally  supposed. 

November  14. — We  breakfasted  at  honest  Allan  Cunning- 
ham's— honest  Allan — a  leal  and  true  Scotsman  of  the  old 
cast.  A  man  of  genius,  besides,  who  only  requires  the  tact  of 
knowing  when  and  where  to  stop,  to  attain  the  universal  praise 
which  ought  to  follow  it.  I  look  upon  the  alteration  of  "It 's 
hame  and  it 's  hame,"  and  "  A  wet  sheet  and  a  flowing  sea," 
as  among  the  best  songs  going.  His  prose  has  often  admir- 
able passages ;  but  he  is  obscure,  and  overlays  his  meaning, 
which  will  not  do  now-a-days,  when  he  who  runs  must  read. 

Dined  at  Croker's,  at  Kensington,  with  his  family,  the 
Speaker,1  and  the  facetious  Theodore  Hook 

We  came  away  rather  early,  that  Anne  and  I  might  visit 
Mrs.  Arbuthnot  to  meet  the  Duke  of  Wellington.  In  all 
my  life  I  never  saw  him  better.  He  has  a  dozen  of  cam- 
paigns in  his  body — and  tough  ones.  Anne  was  delighted 
with  the  frank  manners  of  this  unequalled  pride  of  British 
war,  and  me  he  received  with  all  his  usual  kindness.  He 
talked  away  about  Bonaparte,  Russia,  and  France. 

November  15. — At  breakfast  a  conclave  of  medical  men 

1  The  Right  Hon.  Charles  Manners  Sutton,  afterwards  Viscount  Can- 
terbury.    He  died  in  1845. 

U 


306  JOUKNAL.  [Nov. 

about  poor  little  Johnnie  Lockhart.  They  give  good  words, 
but  I  cannot  help  fearing  the  thing  is  very  precarious,  and 
I  feel  a  miserable  anticipation  of  what  the  parents  are  to 
undergo.  It  is  wrong,  however,  to  despair.  I  was  myself  a 
very  weak  child,  and  certainly  am  one  of  the  strongest  men 
of  my  age  in  point  of  constitution.  Sophia  and  Anne  went 
to  the  Tower,  I  to  the  Colonial  Office,  where  I  laboured  hard. 

Dined  with  the  Duke  of  Wellington.  Anne  with  me,  who 
could  not  look  enough  at  the  vaingueur  du  vainqueur  de  la 
terre.  The  party  were  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Peel,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Arbuthnot,1  Vesey  Fitzgerald,  Bankes,  and  Croker,  with  Lady 
Bathurst  and  Lady  Georgina.  One  gentleman  took  much 
of  the  conversation,  and  gave  us,  with  unnecessary  emphasis, 
and  at  superfluous  length,  his  opinion  of  a  late  gambling 
transaction.  This  spoiled  the  evening.  I  am  sorry  for 

the  occurrence  though,  for  Lord is  fetlock  deep  in  it, 

and  it  looks  like  a  vile  bog.  This  misfortune,  with  the 

foolish  incident  at ,  will  not  be  suffered  to  fall  to  the 

ground,  but  will  be  used  as  a  counterpoise  to  the  Greek  loan. 
Peel  asked  me,  in  private,  my  opinion  of  three  candidates 
for  the  Scotch  gown,  and  I  gave  it  him  candidly.  We  will 
see  if  it  has  weight.2 

I  begin  to  tire  of  my  gaieties ;  and  the  late  hours  and 
constant  feasting  disagree  with  me.  I  wish  for  a  sheep's 
head  and  whisky  toddy  against  all  the  French  cookery  and 
champagne  in  the  world. 

Well,  I  suppose  I  might  have  been  a  Judge  of  Session 

1  Mrs.  Arbutbnot  was  Harriet,  before  the  end  of  the  month.     The 
third    daughter    of    the  Hon.   H.  appointment  satisfied  both  political 
Fane,  and  wife  of  Charles  Arbuth-  parties,  though  Cockburn  said  that 
not,  a  great  friend  of  the  Duke  of  "  his  removal  was  a  great  loss  to  the 
Wellington.    She  died  in  1838,  Mr.  bar  which  he  had  long  adorned,  and 
Arbuthnot  in  1850.  where  he  had  the  entire  confidence 

2  Sir  Walter  had  recommended  of    the    public."     An    admirable 
George  Cranstoun,  his  early  friend,  sketch  of  Cranstoun  is  given  in  No. 
one  of  the  brethren  of  the  mountain,  32  of  Peter's  Letters.    He  retired  in 
who  succeeded  Lord  Hermand,  and  1839,  and  died  atCorehouse,  his  pic- 
took  his  seat  on  the  Scotch  bench,  turesque  seat  on  the  Clyde,  in  1850. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  307 

this  term — attained,  in  short,  the  grand  goal  proposed  to  the 
ambition  of  a  Scottish  lawyer.  It  is  better,  however,  as  it  is. 
while,  at  least,  I  can  maintain  my  literary  reputation. 

I  had  some  conversation  to-day  with  Messrs.  Longman 
and  Co.  They  agreed  to  my  deriving  what  advantage  I 
could  in  America,  and  that  very  willingly. 

November  16. — Breakfasted  with  Eogers,  with  my 
daughters  and  Lockhart.  R  was  exceedingly  entertaining, 
in  his  dry,  quiet,  sarcastic  manner.  At  eleven  to  the  Duke 
of  Wellington,  who  gave  me  a  bundle  of  remarks  on  Bona- 
parte's Eussian  campaign,  written  in  his  carriage  during  his 
late  mission  to  St.  Petersburg.1  It  is  furiously  scrawled, 
and  the  Eussian  names  hard  to  distinguish,  but  it  shall  do 
me  yeoman's  service.  Then  went  to  Pentonville,  to  old  Mr. 
Handley,  a  solicitor  of  the  old  school,  and  manager  of  the 
Devonshire  property.  Had  an  account  of  the  claim  arising 
on  the  estate  of  one  Mrs.  Owen,  due  to  the  representatives 
of  my  poor  wife's  mother.  He  was  desperately  excursive, 
and  spoke  almost  for  an  hour,  but  the  prospect  of  £4000  to 
my  children  made  me  a  patient  auditor.  Thence  I  passed 
to  the  Colonial  Office,  where  I  concluded  my  extracts. 
[Lockhart  and  I]  dined  with  Croker  at  the  Admiralty  au 
grand  convert.  No  less  than  five  Cabinet  Ministers  were 
present — Canning,  Huskisson,  Melville,  [Peel,]  and  Welling- 
ton, with  sub-secretaries  by  the  bushel.  The  cheer  was 
excellent,  but  the  presence  of  too  many  men  of  distinguished 
rank  and  power  always  freezes  the  conversation.  Each 
lamp  shines  brightest  when  placed  by  itself ;  when  too  close, 
they  neutralise  each  other.2 

November  17. — My  morning  here  began  with  the  arrival 

1  This  striking  paper  was  after-  to  the  Duke  on  the  subject  is  given 

wards  printed    in  full  under  the  at  p.  590  of  the  same  volume,  and 

title,  "  Memorandum  on  the  War  in  see  this  Journal  under  Feb.  15,1827. 
Russia  in  1812,"  in  the  Despatches  2  In  returning  from  this  dinner 

edited  by  his  Son  (Dec.  1825  to  May  Sir  Walter    said,    "I    have   seen 

1827),  Murray,  1868,  vol.  i.  8vo,  some  of  these  great  men  at  the  same 

pp.  1-53.     Sir  Walter  Scott's  letter  table/or  tlie  last  time." — J.  G.  I* 


308  JOUKNAL.  [Nov. 

of  Bahauder  Jah ;  soon  after  Mr.  Wright ; 1  then  I  was  called 
out  to  James  Scott  the  young  painter.  I  greatly  fear  this 
modest  and  amiable  creature  is  throwing  away  his  time. 
Next  came  an  animal  who  is  hunting  out  a  fortune  in 
Chancery,  which  has  lain  perdu  for  thirty  years.  The  fellow, 
who  is  in  figure  and  manner  the  very  essence  of  the  crea- 
ture called  a  sloth,  has  attached  himself  to  this  pursuit 
with  the  steadiness  of  a  well-scented  beagle.  I  believe  he 
will  actually  get  the  prize. 

Sir  John  Malcolm  acknowledges  and  recommends  my 
Persian  visitor  Bruce. 

Saw  the  Duke  of  York.  The  change  on  H.RH.  is  most 
wonderful  From  a  big,  burly,  stout  man,  with  a  thick  and 
sometimes  an  inarticulate  mode  of  speaking,  he  has  sunk 
into  a  thin-faced,  slender-looking  old  man,  who  seems 
diminished  in  his  very  size.  I  could  hardly  believe  I  saw 
the  same  person,  though  I  was  received  with  his  usual 
kindness.  He  speaks  much  more  distinctly  than  formerly ; 
his  complexion  is  clearer;  in  short,  H.E.H.  seems,  on  the 
whole,  more  healthy  after  this  crisis  than  when  in  the  stall- 
fed  state,  for  such  it  seemed  to  be,  in  which  I  remember  him. 
God  grant  it !  his  life  is  of  infinite  value  to  the  King  and 
country — it  is  a  breakwater  behind  the  throne. 

November  18. — Was  introduced  by  Eogers  to  Mad. 
D'Arblay,  the  celebrated  authoress  of  Evelina  and  Cecilia, — 
an  elderly  lady,  with  no  remains  of  personal  beauty,  but 
with  a  gentle  manner  and  a  pleasing  expression  of  counten- 
ance. She  told  me  she  had  wished  to  see  two  persons — 
myself,  of  course,  being  one;  the  other  George  Canning. 
This  was  really  a  compliment  to  be  pleased  with — a  nice 
little  handsome  pat  of  butter  made  up  by  a  neat-handed 
Phillis *  of  a  dairymaid,  instead  of  the  grease,  fit  only  for 
cart-wheels,  which  one  is  dosed  with  by  the  pound. 

1  Mr.  William  Wright,  Barrister,  Lincoln's  Inn. — See  Life,  vol.  viiL 
p.  84.  2  Milton's  UAUerjro.—s.  G.  L. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  309 

Mad.  D'Arblay  told  us  the  common  story  of  Dr.  Burney, 
her  father,  having  brought  home  her  own  first  work,  and 
recommended  it  to  her  perusal,  was  erroneous.  Her  father 
was  in  the  secret  of  Evelina  being  printed.  But  the  follow- 
ing circumstances  may  have  given  rise  to  the  story : — Dr. 
Burney  was  at  Streatham  soon  after  the  publication,  where 
he  found  Mrs.  Thrale  recovering  from  her  confinement,  low 
at  the  moment,  and  out  of  spirits.  While  they  were  talking 
together,  Johnson,  who  sat  beside  in  a  kind  of  reverie, 
suddenly  broke  out,  "  You  should  read  this  new  work, 
madam — you  should  read  Evelina ;  every  one  says  it  is 
excellent,  and  they  are  right."  The  delighted  father  obtained 
a  commission  from  Mrs.  Thrale  to  purchase  his  daughter's 
work,  and  retired  the  happiest  of  men.  Mad.  D'Arblay  said 
she  was  wild  with  joy  at  this  decisive  evidence  of  her  literary 
success,  and  that  she  could  only  give  vent  to  her  rapture  by 
dancing  and  skipping  round  a  mulberry-tree  in  the  garden. 
She  was  very  young  at  this  time.  I  trust  I  shall  see  this 
lady  again.  She  has  simple  and  apparently  amiable  manners, 
with  quick  feelings. 

Dined  at  Mr.  Peel's  with  Lord  Liverpool,  Duke  of  Welling- 
ton, Croker,  Bankes,  etc.  The  conversation  very  good — Peel 
taking  the  lead  in  his  own  house,  which  he  will  not  do 
elsewhere.  We  canvassed  the  memorable  criminal  case  of 
Ashford,1  Peel  almost  convinced  of  the  man's  innocence. 
Should  have  been  at  the  play,  but  sat  too  late  at  Mr.  Peel's. 

So  ends  my  campaign  among  these  magnificoes  and  potent 
signiors, 2  with  whom  I  have  found,  as  usual,  the  warmest 
acceptation.  I  wish  I  could  turn  a  little  of  my  popularity 
amongst  them  to  Lockhart's  advantage,  who  cannot  bustle 

1  A  murder  committed  in  1817.  series,  vol.  xi.  pp.  88,  259, 317,  and 

The  accused  claimed  the  privilege  p.  431  for  a  curious  account  of  the 

of    Wager   of  Battle,   which    was  bibliography  of  this  very  singular 

allowed  by  the  Court  for  the  last  case, 
time,  as  the  law  was  abolished  in 

1819.— See  Notes  and  Queries,  2d  2  Othello.—  J.  o.  L. 


310  JOURNAL.  [Nov. 

for  himself.  He  is  out  of  spirits  just  now,  and  views  things 
au  noir.  I  fear  Johnnie's  precarious  state  is  the  cause. 

I  finished  my  sittings  to  Lawrence,  and  am  heartily  sorry 
there  should  be  another  picture  of  me  except  that  which  he 
has  finished.  The  person  is  remarkably  like,  and  conveys 
the  idea  of  the  stout  blunt  carle  that  cares  for  few  things, 
and  fears  nothing.  He  has  represented  the  author  as  in  the 
act  of  composition,  yet  has  effectually  discharged  all  affecta- 
tion from  the  manner  and  attitude.  He  seems  pleased  with 
it  himself.  He  dined  with  us  at  Peel's  yesterday,  where,  by 
the  way,  we  saw  the  celebrated  Chapeau  de  Faille,  which  is 
not  a  Chapeau  de  Faille  at  all. 

November  19. — Saw  this  morning  Duke  of  Wellington 
and  Duke  of  York;  the  former  so  communicative  that  I 
regretted  extremely  the  length  of  time,1  but  have  agreed  on 
a  correspondence  with  him.  Trop  d'honneur  pour  moi. 
The  Duke  of  York  saw  me  by  appointment.  He  seems 
still  mending,  and  spoke  of  state  affairs  as  a  high  Tory. 
Were  his  health  good,  his  spirit  is  as  strong  as  ever. 
H.E.H.  has  a  devout  horror  of  the  liberals.  Having  the 
Duke  of  Wellington,  the  Chancellor,  and  (perhaps)  a  still 
greater  person  on  his  side,  he  might  make  a  great  fight 
when  they  split,  as  split  they  will.  But  Canning,  Huskisson, 
and  a  mitigated  party  of  Liberaux  will  probably  beat  them. 
Canning's  will  and  eloquence  are  almost  irresistible.  But 
then  the  Church,  justly  alarmed  for  their  property,  which 
is  plainly  struck  at,  and  the  bulk  of  the  landed  interest, 
will  scarce  brook  a  mild  infusion  of  Whiggery  into  the 
Administration.  Well,  time  will  show. 

We  visited  our  friends  Peel,  Lord  Gwydyr,  Arbuthnot, 
etc.,  and  left  our  tickets  of  adieu.  In  no  instance,  during 
my  former  visits  to  London,  did  I  ever  meet  with  such 
general  attention  and  respect  on  all  sides. 

1  Sir  Walter  no  doubt  means  that      Duke  at  an  earlier  period  of  his 
he  regretted  not  having  seen  the      historical  labours. — J.  G.  L. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  311 

Lady  Louisa  Stuart  dined — also  Wright  and  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Christie.  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Hughes  oame  in  the  evening ; 
so  ended  pleasantly  our  last  night  in  London. 

[Oxford,]  November  20. — Left  London  after  a  comfortable 
breakfast,  and  an  adieu  to  the  Lockhart  family.  If  I  had 
had  but  comfortable  hopes  of  their  poor,  pale,  prostrate 
child,  so  clever  and  so  interesting,  I  should  have  parted 
easily  on  this  occasion,  but  these  misgivings  overcloud  the 
prospect.  We  reached  Oxford  by  six  o'clock,  and  found 
Charles  and  his  friend  young  Surtees  waiting  for  us,  with 
a  good  fire  in  the  chimney,  and  a  good  dinner  ready  to  be 
placed  on  the  table.  We  had  struggled  through  a  cold, 
sulky,  drizzly  day,  which  deprived  of  all  charms  even 
the  beautiful  country  near  Henley.  So  we  came  from 
cold  and  darkness  into  light  and  warmth  and  society. 
N.B. — We  had  neither  daylight  nor  moonlight  to  see  the 
view  of  Oxford  from  the  Maudlin  Bridge,  which  I  used  to 
think  one  of  the  most  beautiful  in  the  world. 

Upon  finance  I  must  note  that  the  expense  of  travelling 
has  mounted  high.  I  am  too  old  to  rough  it,  and  scrub  it, 
nor  could  I  have  saved  fifty  pounds  by  doing  so.  I  have 
gained,  however,  in  health,  spirits,  in  a  new  stock  of  ideas, 
new  combinations,  and  new  views.  My  self-consequence 
is  raised,  I  hope  not  unduly,  by  the  many  flattering  circum- 
stances attending  my  reception  in  the  two  capitals,  and  I 
feel  confident  in  proportion.  In  Scotland  I  shall  find  time 
for  labour  and  for  economy. 

{Cheltenham^  November  21. — Breakfasted  with  Charles 
in  his  chambers  [at  Brasenose],  where  he  had  everything 
very  neat.  How  pleasant  it  is  for  a  father  to  sit  at  his 
child's  board  !  It  is  like  an  aged  man  reclining  under  the 
shadow  of  the  oak  which  he  has  planted.  My  poor  plant 
has  some  storms  to  undergo,  but  were  this  expedition 
conducive  to  no  more  than  his  entrance  into  life  under 
suitable  auspices,  I  should  consider  the  toil  and  the  expense 


312  JOURNAL.  [Nov. 

well  bestowed.  We  then  sallied  out  to  see  the  lions — guides 
being  Charles,  and  friend  Surtees,  Mr.  John  Hughes,  young 
Mackenzie  (Fitz-Colin),  and  a  young  companion  or  two  of 
Charles's.  Remembering  the  ecstatic  feelings  with  which 
I  visited  Oxford  more  than  twenty-five  years  since,  I  was 
surprised  at  the  comparative  indifference  with  which  I  re- 
visited the  same  scenes.  Reginald  Heber,  then  composing 
his  Prize  Poem,  and  imping  his  wings  for  a  long  flight  of 
honourable  distinction,  is  now  dead  in  a  foreign  land — 
Hodgson  and  other  able  men  all  entombed.  The  towers  and 
halls  remain,  but  the  voices  which  fill  them  are  of  modern 
days.  Besides,  the  eye  becomes  satiated  with  sights,  as 
the  full  soul  loathes  the  honeycomb.  I  admired  indeed, 
but  my  admiration  was  void  of  the  enthusiasm  which  I 
formerly  felt.  I  remember  particularly  having  felt,  while 
in  the  Bodleian,  like  the  Persian  magician  who  visited  the 
enchanted  library  in  the  bowels  of  the  mountain,  and 
willingly  suffered  himself  to  be  enclosed  in  its  recesses,1 
while  less  eager  sages  retired  in  alarm.  Now  I  had  some 
base  thoughts  concerning  luncheon,  which  was  most  munifi- 
cently supplied  by  Surtees  [at  his  rooms  in  University 
College],  with  the  aid  of  the  best  ale  I  ever  drank  in  my 
life,  the  real  wine  of  Ceres,  and  worth  that  of  Bacchus. 
Dr.  Jenkyns,2  the  vice-chancellor,  did  me  the  honour  to 
call,  but  I  saw  him  not.  I  called  on  Charles  Douglas  at 
All-Souls,  and  had  a  chat  of  an  hour  with  him.3 

Before  three  set  out  for  Cheltenham,  a  long  and  uninter- 
esting drive,  which  we  achieved  by  nine  o'clock.  My  sister- 
in-law  [Mrs.  Thomas  Scott]  and  her  daughter  instantly 
came  to  the  hotel,  and  seem  in  excellent  health  and  spirits. 

November  22. — Breakfasted  and  dined  with  Mrs.  Scott, 


1  See  Weber's  Tales  of  the  East,  of  Balliol  College.— j.  o.  L. 
3  vols.  8vo,  Edin.  1812.      History  of        3  Charles  Douglas  succeeded  his 

Avicene,  vol.  ii.  pp.  452-457.  brother,  Baron  Douglas  of  Douglas, 

3  Dr.   Richard  Jenkyns,  Master  in  1844. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  313 

and  leaving  Cheltenham  at  seven,  pushed  on  to  Worcester 
to  sleep. 

November  23. — Breakfasted  at  Birmingham,  and  slept 
at  Macclesfield.  As  we  came  in  between  ten  and  eleven, 
the  people  of  the  inn  expressed  surprise  at  our  travelling 
so  late,  as  the  general  distress  of  the  manufacturers  has 
rendered  many  of  the  lower  class  desperately  outrageous. 
The  inn  was  guarded  by  a  special  watchman,  who  alarmed  us 
by  giving  his  signal  of  turn  out,  but  it  proved  to  be  a  poor 
deserter  who  had  taken  refuge  among  the  carriages,  and  who 
was  reclaimed  by  his  sergeant.  The  people  talk  gloomily 
of  winter,  when  the  distress  of  the  poor  will  be  increased. 

November  24. — Breakfasted  at  Manchester.  Ere  we  left, 
the  senior  churchwarden  came  to  offer  us  his  services, 
to  show  us  the  town,  principal  manufactures,  etc.  We 
declined  his  polite  offer,  pleading  haste.  I  found  his 
opinion  about  the  state  of  trade  more  agreeable  than  I  had 
ventured  to  expect.  He  said  times  were  mending  gradually 
but  steadily,  and  that  the  poor-rates  were  decreasing,  of 
which  none  can  be  so  good  a  judge  as  the  churchwarden. 
Some  months  back  the  people  had  been  in  great  discontent 
on  account  of  the  power  engines,  which  they  conceived 
diminished  the  demand  for  operative  labour.  There  was  no 
politics  in  their  discontent,  however,  and  at  present  it  was 
diminishing.  We  again  pressed  on — and  by  dint  of  exertion 
reached  Kendal  to  sleep ;  thus  getting  out  of  the  region  of 
the  stern,  sullen,  unwashed  artificers,  whom  you  see  lounging 
sulkily  along  the  streets  of  the  towns  in  Lancashire,  cursing, 
it  would  seem  by  their  looks,  the  stop  of  trade  which  gives 
them  leisure,  and  the  laws  which  prevent  them  employing 
their  spare  time.  God's  justice  is  requiting,  and  will  yet 
further  requite  those  who  have  blown  up  this  country  into 
a  state  of  unsubstantial  opulence,  at  the  expense  of  the 
health  and  morals  of  the  lower  classes. 

November  25.— Took  two  pair  of  horses  over  the  Shap 


314  JOURNAL.  [Nov. 

Fells,  which  are  covered  with  snow,  and  by  dint  of  exertion 
reached  Penrith  to  breakfast.  Then  rolled  on  till  we  found 
our  own  horses  at  Hawick,  and  returned  to  our  own  home  at 
Abbotsford  about  three  in  the  morning.  It  is  well  we  made 
a  forced  march  of  about  one  hundred  miles,  for  I  think  the 
snow  would  have  stopped  us  had  we  lingered. 

[Abbotsford,]  November  26. — Consulting  my  purse,  found 
my  good  £60  diminished  to  Quarter  less  Ten.  In  purse  £8. 
Naturally  reflected  how  much  expense  has  increased  since  I 
first  travelled.  My  uncle's  servant,  during  the  jaunts  we 
made  together  while  I  was  a  boy,  used  to  have  his  option  of 
a  shilling  per  diem  for  board  wages,  and  usually  preferred  it 
to  having  his  charges  borne.  A  servant  nowadays,  to  be 
comfortable  on  the  road,  should  have  4s.  or  4s.  6d.  board 
wages,  which  before  1790  would  have  maintained  his  master. 
But  if  this  be  pitiful,  it  is  still  more  so  to  find  the  alteration 
in  my  own  temper.  When  young,  on  returning  from  such 
a  trip  as  I  have  just  had,  my  mind  would  have  loved  to 
dwell  on  all  I  had  seen  that  was  rich  and  rare,  or  have  been 
placing,  perhaps  in  order,  the  various  additions  with  which 
I  had  supplied  my  stock  of  information — and  now,  like  a 
stupid  boy  blundering  over  an  arithmetical  question  half 
obliterated  on  his  slate,  I  go  stumbling  on  upon  the  audit 
of  pounds,  shillings,  and  pence.  Why,  the  increase  of  charge 
I  complain  of  must  continue  so  long  as  the  value  of  the  thing 
represented  by  cash  continues  to  rise,  or  as  the  value  of  the 
thing  representing  continues  to  decrease — let  the  economists 
settle  which  is  the  right  way  of  expressing  the  process  when 
groats  turn  plenty  and  eggs  grow  dear — 

"  And  so  'twill  be  when  I  am  gone, 
The  increasing  charge  will  still  go  on, 
And  other  bards  shall  climb  these  hills, 
And  curse  your  charge,  dear  evening  bills." 

Well,  the  skirmish  has  cost  me  £200.  I  wished  for  informa- 
tion— and  I  have  had  to  pay  for  it.  The  information  is  got, 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  315 

the  money  is  spent,  and  so  this  is  the  only  mode  of  account- 
ing amongst  friends. 

I  have  packed  my  books,  etc.,  to  go  by  cart  to  Edinburgh 
to-morrow.  I  idled  away  the  rest  of  the  day,  happy  to  find 
myself  at  home,  which  is  home,  though  never  so  homely. 
And  mine  is  not  so  homely  neither;  on  the  contrary,  I 
have  seen  in  my  travels  none  I  liked  so  well — fantastic  in 
architecture  and  decoration  if  you  please — but  no  real  com- 
fort sacrificed  to  fantasy.  "  Ever  gramercy  my  own  purse," 
saith  the  song ; l  "  Ever  gramercy  my  own  house,"  quoth  I. 

November  27. — We  set  off  after  breakfast,  but  on  reaching 
Fushie  Bridge  at  three,  found  ourselves  obliged  to  wait  for 
horses,  all  being  gone  to  the  smithy  to  be  roughshod  in  this 
snowy  weather.  So  we  stayed  dinner,  and  Peter,  coming  up 
with  his  horses,  bowled  us  into  town  about  eight.  Walter 
came  and  supped  with  us,  which  diverted  some  heavy 
thoughts.  It  is  impossible  not  to  compare  this  return  to 
Edinburgh  with  others  in  more  happy  times.  But  we  should 
rather  recollect  under  what  distress  of  mind  I  took  up  my 
lodgings  in  Mrs.  Brown's  last  summer,  and  then  the  balance 
weighs  deeply  on  the  favourable  side.  This  house  is  com- 
fortable and  convenient.2 

[Edinburgh,]  November  28. — Went  to  Court  and  resumed 
old  habits.  Dined  with  Walter  and  Jane  at  Mrs.  Jobson's. 

When  we  returned  were  astonished  at  the  news  of  's 

death,  and  the  manner  of  it ;  a  quieter,  more  inoffensive,  mild, 
and  staid  mind  I  never  knew.  He  was  free  from  all  these 
sinkings  of  the  imagination  which  render  those  who  are 
liable  to  them  the  victims  of  occasional  low  spirits.  All 
belonging  to  this  gifted,  as  it  is  called,  but  often  unhappy, 
class,  must  have  felt  at  times  that,  but  for  the  dictates  of 

1 "  But  of  all  friends  in  field  or  town, 
Ever  gramercy,"  etc. 

Dame  Juliana  Semen. 

3  A   furnished  house  in  Walker  Street  which  he  had  taken  for  the 
•winter  (No.  3). 


316  JOUKNAL.  [Nov.  1826. 

religion,  or  the  natural  recoil  of  the  mind  from  the  idea 
of  dissolution,  there  have  been  times  when  they  would  have 
been  willing  to  throw  away  life  as  a  child  does  a  broken 

toy.     But  poor was  none  of  these :  he  was  happy  in 

his  domestic  relations ;  and  on  the  very  day  on  which  the 
rash  deed  was  committed  was  to  have  embarked  for  rejoining 
his  wife  and  child,  whom  I  so  lately  saw  anxious  to  impart 
to  him  their  improved  prospects. 

0  Lord,  what  are  we — lords  of  nature  ?   Why,  a  tile  drops 
from  a  housetop,  which  an  elephant  would  not  feel  more  than 
the  fall  of  a  sheet  of  pasteboard,  and  there  lies  his  lordship. 
Or  something  of  inconceivably  minute  origin,  the  pressure 
of  a  bone,  or  the  inflammation  of  a  particle  of  the  brain  takes 
place,  and  the  emblem  of  the  Deity  destroys  himself  or 
some  one  else.     We  hold  our  health  and  our  reason  on  terms 
slighter  than  one  would  desire  were  it  in  their  choice  to  hold 
an  Irish  cabin. 

November  29. — Awaked  from  horrid  dreams  to  recon- 
sideration of  the  sad  reality ;  he  was  such  a  kind,  obliging, 
assiduous  creature.  I  thought  he  came  to  my  bedside  to 
expostulate  with  me  how  I  could  believe  such  a  scandal, 
and  I  thought  I  detected  that  it  was  but  a  spirit  who  spoke, 
by  the  paleness  of  his  look  and  the  blood  flowing  from  his 
cravat.  I  had  the  nightmare  in  short,  and  no  wonder. 

1  felt  stupefied  all  this  day,  but  wrote  the  necessary 
letters  notwithstanding.     Walter,  Jane,  and  Mrs.  Jobson 
dined  with  us — but  I  could  not  gather  my  spirits.     But  it 
is  nonsense,  and  contrary  to  my  system,  which  is  of  the 
stoic  school,  and  I  think  pretty  well  maintained.     It  is  the 
only  philosophy  I  know  or  can  practise,  but  it  cannot  always 
keep  the  helm. 

November  30. — I  went  to  the  Court,  and  on  my  return 
set  in  order  a  sheet  or  two  of  copy.  We  came  back  about 
two — the  new  form  of  hearing  counsel  makes  our  sederunt 
a  long  one.  Dined  alone,  and  worked  in  the  evening. 


DECEMBER 


December  I.1 — The  Court  again  very  long  in  its  sitting, 
and  I  obliged  to  remain  till  the  last.  This  is  the  more 
troublesome,  as  in  winter,  with  my  worn-out  eyes,  I  cannot 
write  so  well  by  candle-light.  Naboclish !  when  I  am  quite 
blind,  good-night  to  you,  as  the  one-eyed  fellow  said  when  a 
tennis  ball  knocked  out  his  remaining  luminary.  My  short 
residue  of  time  before  dinner  was  much  cut  up  by  calls — all 
old  friends,  too,  and  men  whom  I  love ;  but  this  makes  the 
loss  of  time  more  galling,  that  one  cannot  and  dare  not 
growl  at  those  on  whom  it  has  been  bestowed.  However,  I 
made  out  two  hours  better  than  I  expected.  I  am  now  once 
more  at  my  oar.  and  I  will  row  hard. 


1  During  the  winter  of  1826-7 
Sir  Walter  suffered  great  pain 
(enough  to  have  disturbed  effectu- 
ally any  other  man's  labours, 
whether  official  or  literary)  from 
successive  attacks  of  rheumatism, 
which  seems  to  have  been  fixed  on 
him  by  the  wet  sheets  of  one  of  his 
French  inns ;  and  his  Diary  con- 
tains, besides,  various  indications 
that  his  constitution  was  already 
shaking  under  the  fatigue  to  which 
he  had  subjected  it.  Formerly, 
however  great  the  quantity  of  work 
he  put  through  his  hands,  his 
evenings  were  almost  all  reserved 
for  the  light  reading  of  an  elbow- 
chair,  or  the  enjoyment  of  his 
family  and  friends.  Now  he  seemed 
to  grudge  every  minute  that  was 
not  spent  at  his  desk.  The  little 
that  he  read  of  new  books,  or  for 


mere  amusement,  was  done  by 
snatches  in  the  course  of  his  meals  ; 
and  to  walk,  when  he  could  walk 
at  all,  to  the  Parliament  House, 
and  back  again  through  the  Princes 
Street  Gardens,  was  his  only  exer- 
cise and  his  only  relaxation.  Every 
ailment,  of  whatever  sort,  ended  in 
aggravating  his  lameness ;  and, 
perhaps,  the  severest  test  his  philo- 
sophy encountered  was  the  feeling 
of  bodily  helplessness  that  from 
week  to  week  crept  upon  him.  The 
winter,  to  make  bad  worse,  was  a 
very  cold  and  stormy  one.  The 
growing  sluggishness  of  his  blood 
showed  itself  in  chilblains,  not  only 
on  the  feet  but  the  fingers,  and  his 
handwriting  becomes  more  and 
more  cramped  and  confused. — Life, 
vol.  ix.  pp.  58-9. 

317 


318  JOUENAL.  [DEC. 

December  2. — Eeturned  early  from  Court,  but  made  some 
calls  by  the  way.  Dined  alone  with  Anne,  and  meant  to 
have  worked,  but — I  don't  know  how — this  horrid  story 
stuck  by  me,  so  I  e'en  read  Boutourlin's  account  of  the 
Moscow  campaign  to  eschew  the  foul  fiend. 

December  3. — Wrote  five  pages  before  dinner.  Sir 
Thomas  Brisbane  and  Sir  William  Arbuthnot  called,  also 
John  A.  Murray.  William  dined  with  us,  all  vivid  with 
his  Italian  ideas,  only  Jane  besides.  Made  out  five  pages, 
I  think,  or  nearly. 

December  4. — Much  colded,  which  is  no  usual  complaint 
of  mine,  but  worked  about  five  leaves,  so  I  am  quite  up  with 
my  task-work  and  better.  But  my  books  from  Abbotsford 
have  not  arrived.  Dined  with  the  Eoyal  Society  Club — 
about  thirty  members  present — too  many  for  company. 
After  coffee,  the  Society  were  like  Mungo  in  The  Padlock* 
I  listened,  without  understanding  a  single  word,  to  two 
scientific  papers ;  one  about  the  tail  of  a  comet,  and  the  other 
about  a  chucky-stone ;  besides  hearing  Basil  Hall  describe, 
and  seeing  him  exhibit,  a  new  azimuth.  I  have  half  a  mind 
to  cut  the  whole  concern ;  and  yet  the  situation  is  honour- 
able, and,  as  Bob  Acres  says,  one  should  think  of  their 
honour.  We  took  possession  of  our  new  rooms  on  the 
Mound,  which  are  very  handsome  and  gentlemanlike. 

December  5. — Annoyed  with  the  cold  and  its  con- 
sequences all  night,  and  wish  I  could  shirk  the  Court  this 
morning.  But  it  must  not  be.  Was  kept  late,  and  my  cold 
increased.  I  have  had  a  regular  attack  of  this  for  many  years 
past  whenever  I  return  to  the  sedentary  life  and  heated 
rooms  of  Edinburgh,  which  are  so  different  from  the  open 
air  and  constant  exercise  of  the  country.  Odd  enough  that 
during  cold  weather  and  cold  nocturnal  journeys  the  cold 
never  touched  me,  yet  I  am  no  sooner  settled  in  comfortable 
quarters  and  warm  well-aired  couches,  but  la  voilA.  I  made 
1  See  Bickerstaffs  Comic  Opera,  The  Padlock. 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  319 

a  shift  to  finish  my  task,  however,  and  even  a  leaf  more,  so 
we  are  bang  up.  We  dined  and  supped  alone,  and  I  went 
to  bed  early. 

Deceniber  6. — A  bad  and  disturbed  night  with  fever,  head- 
ache, and  some  touch  of  cholera  morbus,  which  greatly 
disturbed  my  slumbers.  But  I  fancy  Nature  was  scouring 
the  gun  after  her  own  fashion.  I  slept  little  till  morning, 
and  then  lay  abed,  contrary  to  my  wont,  until  half-past 
nine  o'clock,  when  I  came  down  to  breakfast.  Went  to 
Court,  and  returned  time  enough  to  write  about  five  leaves. 
Dined  at  Skene's,  where  we  met  Lord  Elgin  and  Mr.  Stewart, 
a  son  of  Sir  M.  Shaw  Stewart,  whom  I  knew  and  liked,  poor 
man.  Talked  among  other  things  and  persons  of  Sir  J. 
Campbell  of  Ardkinglas,  who  is  now  here.1  He  is  happy  in 
escaping  from  his  notorious  title  of  Callander  of  Craigforth. 
In  my  youth  he  was  a  black-leg  and  swindler  of  the  first 
water,  and  like  Pistol  did 

"  Somewhat  lean  to  cut-purse  of  quick  hand."  2 

He  was  obliged  to  give  up  his  estate  to  his  son  Colonel 
Callander,  a  gentleman  of  honour,  and  as  Dad  went  to  the 
Continent  in  the  midst  of  the  French  Eevolution,  he  is 
understood  to  have  gone  through  many  scenes.  At  one  time, 
Lord  Elgin  assured  us,  he  seized  upon  the  island  of  Zante,  as 
he  pretended,  by  direct  authority  from  the  English  Govern- 
ment, and  reigned  there  very  quietly  for  some  months,  until, 
to  appease  the  jealousy  of  the  Turks,  Lord  Elgin  despatched 
a  frigate  to  dethrone  the  new  sovereign.  Afterwards  he 
traversed  India  in  the  dress  of  a  fakir.  He  is  now  eighty 
and  upwards. 

1  This  gentleman  published  his  says     was     effected     at     Nelson's 

own  Memoirs  (2  vols.  8vo,  Lond.  suggestion,    and  by   Lord  Keith's 

1832).      They    read  like   chapters  authority.     Sir  James  died  in  1832 

from  the  Arabian  Nights.    He  gives  at  a  very  great  age. 
a    somewhat   different   account   of 

his  occupation  of  Zante,  which  he  -  Henry  V.  Act  v.  Sc.  1. 


320  JOURNAL.  [DEC. 

I  should  like  to  see  what  age  and  adventures  have  done 
upon  him.  I  recollect  him  a  very  handsome,  plausible  man. 
Of  all  good  breeding,  that  of  a  swindler  (of  good  education, 
be  it  understood)  is  the  most  perfect. 

December  7. — Again  a  very  disturbed  night,  scarce  sleeping 
an  hour,  yet  well  when  I  rose  in  the  morning.  I  did  not  do 
above  a  leaf  to-day,  because  I  had  much  to  read.  But  I  am 
up  to  one-fourth  of  the  volume,  of  400  pages,  which  I  began 
on  the  first  December  current ;  the  31st  must  and  shall  see 
the  end  of  vol.  vi.  We  dined  alone.  I  had  a  book  sent  me  by 
a  very  clever  woman,  in  defence  of  what  she  calls  the  rights 
of  her  sex.  Clever,  though.  I  hope  she  will  publish  it. 

December  8. — Another  restless  and  deplorable  Knight — 
night  I  should  say — faith,  either  spelling  will  suit.  Returned 
early,  but  much  done  up  with  my  complaint  and  want  of 
sleep  last  night.  I  wrought  however,  but  with  two  or  three 
long  interruptions,  my  drowsiness  being  irresistible.  Went 
to  dine  with  John  Murray,  where  met  his  brother  Hender- 
land,  Jeffrey,  Harry  Cockburn,  Rutherfurd,  and  others  of 
that  file.  Very  pleasant — capital  good  cheer  and  excellent 
wine — much  laugh  and  fun. 

December  9. — I  do  not  know  why  it  is  that  when  I  am 
with  a  party  of  my  Opposition  friends,  the  day  is  often 
merrier  than  when  with  our  own  set.  Is  it  because  they  are 
cleverer  ?  Jeffrey  and  Harry  Cockburn  are,  to  be  sure,  very 
extraordinary  men,  yet  it  is  not  owing  to  that  entirely.  I 
believe  both  parties  meet  with  the  feeling  of  something  like 
novelty.  We  have  not  worn  out  our  jests  in  daily  contact. 
There  is  also  a  disposition  on  such  occasions  to  be  courteous, 
and  of  course  to  be  pleased.  Wrought  all  day,  but  rather 
dawdled,  being  abominably  drowsy.  I  fancy  it  is  bile,  a 
visitor  I  have  not  had  this  long  time. 

December  10. — An  uncomfortable  and  sleepless  night; 
and  the  lime  water  assigned  to  cure  me  seems  far  less 
pleasant,  and  about  as  inefficacious  as  lime  punch  would 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  321 

be  in  the  circumstances.  I  felt  main  stupid  the  whole 
forenoon,  and  though  I  wrote  my  task,  yet  it  was  with 
great  intervals  of  drowsiness  and  fatigue  which  made  me, 
as  we  Scots  says,  dover  away  in  my  arm-chair.  Walter 
and  Jane  came  to  dinner,  also  my  Coz  Colonel  Eussell,  and 
above  and  attour 1  James  Ballantyne,  poor  fellow.  We  had 
a  quiet  and  social  evening,  I  acting  on  prescription.  Well, 
I  have  seen  the  day — but  no  matter. 

December  11. — Slept  indifferent  well  with  a  feverish 
halo  about  me,  but  no  great  return  of  my  complaint.  It 
paid  it  off  this  morning,  however,  but  the  difference  was  of 
such  consequence  that  I  made  an  ample  day's  work,  getting 
over  six  pages,  besides  what  I  may  do.  On  this,  the  llth 
December,  I  shall  have  more  than  one-third  of  vol.  vi. 
finished,  which  was  begun  on  the  first  of  this  current  month. 
Dined  quiet  and  at  home.  I  must  take  no  more  frisks  till 
this  fit  is  over. 

"  When  once  life's  day  draws  near  the  gloaming, 
Then  farewell  careless  social  roaming  ; 
And  farewell  cheerful  tankards  foaming, 
And  social  noise ; 
And  farewell  dear  deluding  woman, 

The  joy  of  joys  !"2 

Long  life  to  thy  fame  and  peace  to  thy  soul,  Eob  Burns ! 
When  I  want  to  express  a  sentiment  which  I  feel  strongly, 
I  find  the  phrase  in  Shakespeare — or  thee.  The  blockheads 
talk  of  my  being  like  Shakespeare — not  fit  to  tie  his 
brogues.3 

December  12. — Did  not  go  to  the  Parliament  House,  but 
drove  with  Walter  to  Dalkeith,  where  we  missed  the  Duke, 
and  found  Mr.  Blakeney.  One  thing  I  saw  there  which 
pleased  me  much,  and  that  was  my  own  picture,  painted 

1  For  By  and  attour,  i.e.  over  and       Brother  of  Homer  and  of  him 
above  ^n  Avon's  shore,  mid  twilight  dim, 

,    ,.         L     T    o     -J.1.  Who  dreamed  immortal  dreams,  and  took 

From  Nature's  hand  her  picture  book  ; 

3  Delta's  lines  on  Leslie's  portrait        Time  hath  not  seen,  Time  may  not  see, 
of  Scott  may  be  recorded  here  : —  Till  ends  his  reign,  a  third  like  thee. 


322  JOUENAL.  [DEC. 

twenty  years  ago  by  Eaeburn  for  Constable,  and  which  was 
to  have  been  brought  to  sale  among  the  rest  of  the  wreck, 
hanging  quietly  up  in  the  dining-room  at  Dalkeith.1  I  do 
not  care  much  about  these  things,  yet  it  would  have  been 
annoying  to  have  been  knocked  down  to  the  best  bidder 
even  in  effigy;  and  I  am  obliged  to  the  friendship  and 
delicacy  which  placed  the  portrait  where  it  now  is.  Dined 
at  Archie  Swinton's,  with  all  the  cousins  of  that  honest  clan, 
and  met  Lord  Cringletie,2  his  wife,  and  others.  Finished 
my  task  this  day. 

December  13. — Went  to  the  Court  this  morning  early, 
and  remained  till  past  three.  Then  attended  a  meeting  of 
the  Edinburgh  Academy  Directors  on  account  of  some 
discussion  about  flogging.  I  am  an  enemy  to  corporal 
punishment,  but  there  are  many  boys  who  will  not  attend 
without  it.  It  is  an  instant  and  irresistible  motive,  and  I 
love  boys'  heads  too  much  to  spoil  them  at  the  expense  of 
their  opposite  extremity.  Then,  when  children  feel  an 
emancipation  on  this  point,  we  may  justly  fear  they  will 
loosen  the  bonds  of  discipline  altogether.  The  master,  I 
fear,  must  be  something  of  a  despot  at  the  risk  of  his 
becoming  something  like  a  tyrant.  He  governs  subjects 
whose  keen  sense  of  the  present  is  not  easily  ruled  by  any 
considerations  that  are  not  pressing  and  immediate.  I  was 
indifferently  well  beaten  at  school;  but  I  am  now  quite 
certain  that  twice  as  much  discipline  would  have  been 
well  bestowed. 

Dined  at  home  with  Walter  and  Jane ;  they  with  Anne 
went  out  in  the  evening,  I  remained,  but  not  I  fear  to 
work  much.  I  feel  sorely  fagged.  I  am  sadly  fagged. 
Then  I  cannot  get  -  — 's  fate  out  of  my  head.  I  see  that 
kind,  social,  beneficent  face  never  turned  to  me  without 

1  Now  at  Bowhill.  Lord  Cringletie,  in  November  1816, 

2  James  Wolfe  Murray  succeeded      and  died  in  1836. 
Lord  Meadowbank  on  the  Bench  as 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  323 

respect  and  complacence,  and — I  see  it  in  the  agonies  of 
death.  This  is  childish;  I  tell  myself  so,  and  I  trust  the 
feeling  to  no  one  else.  But  here  it  goes  down  like  the 
murderer  who  could  not  cease  painting  the  ideal  vision  of 
the  man  he  had  murdered,  and  who  he  supposed  haunted 
him.  A  thousand  fearful  images  and  dire  suggestions  glance 
along  the  mind  when  it  is  moody  and  discontented  with 
itself.  Command  them  to  stand  and  show  themselves,  and 
you  presently  assert  the  power  of  reason  over  imagination. 
But  if  by  any  strange  alterations  in  one's  nervous  system 
you  lost  for  a  moment  the  talisman  which  controls  these 
fiends,  would  they  not  terrify  into  obedience  with  their 
mandates,  rather  than  we  would  dare  longer  to  endure 
their  presence  ? 

December  14. — Annoyed  with  this  cursed  complaint, 
though  I  live  like  a  hermit  on  pulse  and  water.  Bothered, 
too,  with  the  Court,  which  leaves  me  little  room  for  proof- 
sheets,  and  none  for  copy.  They  sat  to-day  till  past  two, 
so  before  I  had  walked  home,  and  called  for  half  an  hour 
on  the  Chief  Commissioner,  the  work  part  of  the  day  was 
gone;  and  then  my  lassitude — I  say  lassitude — not  indolence 
— is  so  great  that  it  costs  me  an  hour's  nap  after  I  come 
home.  We  dined  to-day  with  E.  Dundas  of  Arniston — 
Anne  and  I.  There  was  a  small  cabal  about  Cheape's 
election  for  Professor  of  Civil  Law,  which  it  is  thought 
we  can  carry  for  him.  He  deserves  support,  having  been 
very  indifferently  used  in  the  affair  of  the  Beacon?-  where 
certain  high  Tories  showed  a  great  desire  to  leave  him  to 

1  A  Party  Newspaper  started  by  was  never  heaped    together  than 

the    Tories  in  Edinburgh   at    the  the  whole  of  this  affair  exhibited ; " 

beginning  of  1821.      It  was  sup-  and    Scott,   who  was    one    of    its 

pressed  in  the  month  of  August,  founders,  along  with  the  Lord  Ad- 

but  during  the  interval  contrived  vocate  and  other  official  persons, 

to  give  great  offence  to  the  Whig  wrote  to  Erskine,   "I  am  terribly 

leaders  by  its  personality.     Lock-  malcontent  about  the  Beacon.      I 

hart  says  of  it  that  "a  more  pitiable  was  dragged  into  the  bond  against 

mass  of    blunders  and   imbecility  all  reasons  I  could  make,  and  now 


324  JOUKKA.L.  [DEC. 

the  mercy  of  the  enemy ;  as  Feeble  says,  "  I  will  never  bear 
a  base  mind."1  We  drank  some  "  victorious  Burgundy," 
contrary  to  all  prescription. 

December  15. — Egad!  I  think  I  am  rather  better  for 
my  good  cheer!  I  have  passed  one  quiet  night  at  least, 
and  that  is  something  gained.  A  glass  of  good  wine  is  a 
gracious  creature,  and  reconciles  poor  mortality  to  itself, 
and  that  is  what  few  things  can  do. 

Our  election  went  off  very  decently ;  no  discussions  or 
aggravating  speeches.  Sir  John  Jackass  seconded  the 
Whig's  nominee.  So  much  they  will  submit  to  to  get 
a  vote.  The  numbers  stood  —  Cheape,2  138;  Bell,  132. 
Majority,  6 — mighty  hard  run.  The  Tory  interest  was 
weak  among  the  old  stagers,  where  I  remember  it  so  strong, 
but  preferment,  country  residence,  etc.,  has  thinned  them. 
Then  it  was  strong  in  the  younger  classes.  The  new  Dean, 
James  Mpncreiff,3  presided  with  strict  propriety  and  im- 
partiality. Walter  and  Jane  dined  with  us. 

December  16. — Another  bad  night.  I  remember  I  used 
to  think  a  slight  illness  was  a  luxurious  thing.  My 
pillow  was  then  softened  by  the  hand  of  affection,  and  all 
the  little  cares  which  were  put  in  exercise  to  soothe  the 
languor  or  pain  were  more  flattering  and  pleasing  than  the 

they  have  allowed  me  no  vote  Rev.  Sir  Henry  Wellwood.  The 
regarding  standing  or  flying.  Entre  new  Dean  succeeded  Lord  Alloway 
noits,  our  friends  went  into  the  thing  on  the  Scotch  Bench  in  1829,  and 
like  fools,  and  came  out  very  like  died  in  1851.  Cockburn  writes  of 
cowards."  The  wretched  libels  it  him  thus: — "During  the  twenty- 
contained  cost  Sir  A.  Boswell  his  one  years  he  was  on  the  civil  and 
life,  and  for  a  moment  endangered  criminal  benches,  he  performed  all 
that  of  Scott.  —  See  Life,  vol.  his  duties  admirably.  Law-learn- 
vi.  pp.  426-429,  and  Cockburn's  ing  and  law-reasoning,  industry, 
Memorials,  p.  312.  honesty,  and  high-minded  purity 

1  2  Henry  IV.  Act  in.  Sc.  2.  could  do  no  more  for  any  JudSe' 

After    forty    years     of    unbroken 

2  Douglas  Cheape,  whose  Intro-      friendship>  it  is  a  pleasure  to  re- 
ductory  Lecture  was  published  in      cord  my  love  of  the  man>  and  my 

827.     Mr.  Cheape  died  in  1861.  admiration     of    his    character."- 

3  James    Moncreiff,    son    of   the      Journals,  vol.  ii.  p.  264. 


1826.]  JOURNAL.  325 

consequences  of  the  illness  were  disagreeable.  It  was  a 
new  sense  to  be  watched  and  attended,  and  I  used  to  think 
that  the  Malade  imaginaire  gained  something  by  his  humour. 
It  is  different  in  the  latter  stages.  The  old  post-chaise  gets 
more  shattered  and  out  of  order  at  every  turn;  windows 
will  not  be  pulled  up  ;  doors  refuse  to  open,  or  being  open 
will  not  shut  again — which  last  is  rather  my  case.  There 
is  some  new  subject  of  complaint  every  moment;  your 
sicknesses  come  thicker  and  thicker;  your  comforting  or 
sympathising  friends  fewer  and  fewer ;  for  why  should  they 
sorrow  for  the  course  of  nature  ?  The  recollection  of  youth, 
health,  and  uninterrupted  powers  of  activity,  neither  im- 
proved nor  enjoyed,  is  a  poor  strain  of  comfort.  The  best 
is,  the  long  halt  will  arrive  at  last,  and  cure  all. 

We  had  a  long  sitting  in  the  Court.  Came  home 
through  a  cold  easterly  rain  without  a  greateoat,  and  was 
well  wet.  A  goodly  medicine  for  my  aching  bones.1  Dined 
at  Mr.  Adam  Wilson's,  and  had  some  good  singing  in  the 
evening.  Saw  Dr.  Stokoe,  who  attended  Boney  in  Saint 
Helena,  a  plain,  sensible  sort  of  man.2 

December  17. — This  was  a  day  of  labour,  agreeably 
varied  by  a  pain  which  rendered  it  scarce  possible  to  sit 
upright.  My  Journal  is  getting  a  vile  chirurgical  aspect. 

I  begin  to  be  afraid  of  the  odd  consequences  complaints 
in  the  post  equitem  are  said  to  produce.  Walter  and  Jane 
dined.  Mrs.  Skene  came  in  the  evening. 

December  18. — Almost  sick  with  pain,  and  it  stops  every- 
thing. I  shall  tire  of  my  Journal  if  it  is  to  contain 
nothing  but  biles  and  plasters  and  unguents.  In  my  better 
days  I  had  stories  to  tell ;  but  death  has  closed  the  long 
dark  avenue  upon  loves  and  friendships ;  and  I  can  only 


1  Troilm  and   Cressida,  Act  v.      Durham,  died  suddenly  at  York  in 
Sc.  2.  1852.     He  had  been  surgeon  in  the 

fleet  at  Trafalgar,  and  was  after- 
J  Dr.  Stokoe,  who  had  settled  at     wards  appointed  to  St.  Helena. 


326  JOUENAL.  [DEC. 

look  at  them  as  through  the  grated  door  of  a  long  burial- 
place  filled  with  monuments  of  those  who  were  once  dear 
to  me,  with  no  insincere  wish  that  it  may  open  for  me 
at  no  distant  period,  provided  such  be  the  will  of  God. 
My  pains  were  those  of  the  heart,  and  had  something 
flattering  in  their  character ;  if  in  the  head,  it  was  from 
the  blow  of  a  bludgeon  gallantly  received  and  well  paid 
back. 

I  went  to  the  meeting  of  the  Commissioners  j1  there 
was  none  to-day.  The  carriage  had  set  me  down;  so  I 
walked  from  the  college  in  one  of  the  sourest  and  most 
unsocial  days  which  I  ever  felt.  Why  should  I  have  liked 
this  ?  I  do  not  know ;  it  is  my  dogged  humour  to  yield 
little  to  external  circumstances.  Sent  an  excuse  to  the 
Eoyal  Society,  however. 

December  19.- — Went  to  Court.  No,  I  lie  ;  I  had  business 
there.  Wrote  a  task;  no  more;  could  not.  Went  out  to 
Dalkeith,  and  dined  with  the  Duke.  It  delights  me  to 
hear  this  hopeful  young  nobleman  talk  with  sense  and 
firmness  about  his  plans  for  improving  his  estate,  and 
employing  the  poor.  If  God  and  the  world  spare  him,  he 
will  be  far  known  as  a  true  Scots  lord.2 

December  20. — Being  a  Teind  day,  I  had  a  little  repose. 
We  dined  at  Hector  Macdonald's  with  William  Clerk  and 
some  youngsters.  Highland  hospitality  as  usual.  I  got 
some  work  done  to-day. 

December  21. — In  the  house  till  two  o'clock  nearly. 
Came  home,  corrected  proof-sheets,  etc.,  mechanically.  All 
well,  would  the  machine  but  keep  in  order,  but  "The 
spinning  wheel  is  auld  and  stiff." 

I  think  I  shall  not  live  to  the  usual  verge  of  human 

1  The  University  Commission. —     fulfilled  the  hopes  and  prognostics 
See  ante,  pp.  256,  257.  of    his    friend.       A    "  true    Scots 

lord,"  he  carried  with  him  to  the 

2  The  long  life  of  Walter,  fifth     grave  in  1884  the  love  and  respect 
Duke    of    Buccleuch,    more    than     of  his  countrymen. 


1826.]  JOUENAL.  327 

existence.  I  shall  never  see  the  threescore  and  ten,  and 
shall  be  summed  up  at  a  discount.  No  help  for  it,  and 
no  matter  either. 

December  22. — Poor  old  Honour  and  Glory  dead — once 
Lord  Moira,  more  lately  Lord  Hastings.  He  was  a  man  of 
very  considerable  talents,  but  had  an  overmastering  degree  of 
vanity  of  the  grossest  kind.  It  followed  of  course  that  he  was 
gullible.  In  fact  the  propensity  was  like  a  ring  in  his  nose 
into  which  any  rogue  might  put  a  string.  He  had  a  high 
reputation  for  war,  but  it  was  after  the  pettifogging  hostili- 
ties in  America  where  he  had  done  some  clever  things.  He 
died,  having  the  credit,  or  rather  having  had  the  credit, 
to  leave  more  debt  than  any  man  since  Caesar's  time. 
£1,200,000  is  said  to  be  the  least.  There  was  a  time  that  I 
knew  him  well,  and  regretted  the  foibles  which  mingled 
with  his  character,  so  as  to  make  his  noble  qualities  some- 
times questionable,  sometimes  ridiculous.  He  was  always 
kind  to  me.  Poor  Plantagenet !  Young  Percival  went  out 
to  dine  at  Dalkeith  with  me. 

December  24. — To  add  to  my  other  grievances  I  have  this 
day  a  proper  fit  of  rheumatism  in  my  best  knee.  I  pushed 
to  Abbotsford,  however,  after  the  Court  rose,  though  com- 
pelled to  howl  for  pain  as  they  helped  me  out  of  the 
carriage. 

[Abbotsford,]  December  25. — By  dint  of  abstinence  and 
opodeldoc  I  passed  a  better  night  than  I  could  have  hoped 
for;  but  took  up  my  lodging  in  the  chapel  room-,  as  it  is 
called,  for  going  upstairs  was  impossible. 

To-day  I  have  been  a  mere  wretch.  I  lay  in  bed  till 
past  eleven,  thinking  to  get  rid  of  the  rheumatism ;  then  I 
walked  as  far  as  Turnagain  with  much  pain,  and  since  that 
time  I  have  just  roasted  myself  like  a  potato  by  the  fireside 
in  my  study,  slumbering  away  my  precious  time,  and  unable 
to  keep  my  eyes  open  or  my  mind  intent  on  anything,  if  I 
would  have  given  my  life  for  it.  I  seemed  to  sleep  tolerably, 


328  JOUKNAL.  [DEC. 

too,  last  night,  but  I  suppose  Nature  had  not  her  dues  pro- 
perly paid  ;  neither  has  she  for  some  time. 

I  saw  the  filling  up  of  the  quarry  on  the  terrace  walk, 
and  was  pleased.  Anne  and  I  dined  at  Mertoun,  as  has  been 
my  old  wont  and  use  as  Christmas  day  comes  about.  We 
were  late  in  setting  out,  and  I  have  rarely  seen  so  dark  a 
night.  The  mist  rolled  like  volumes  of  smoke  on  the  road 
before  us. 

December  26.  — Eeturned  to  Abbotsford  this  morning. 
I  heard  it  reported  that  Lord  B.  is  very  ill.  If  that  be 

true  it  affords  ground  for  hope  that  Sir  John is  not 

immortal  Both  great  bores.  But  the  Earl  has  something 
of  wild  cleverness,  far  exceeding  the  ponderous  stupidity  of 
the  Cavaliero  Jackasso. 

December  27. — Still  weak  with  this  wasting  illness,  but 
it  is  clearly  going  off.  Time  it  should,  quoth  Sancho.  I 
began  my  work  again,  which  had  slumbered  betwixt  pain 
and  weakness.  In  fact  I  could  not  write  or  compose  at  all. 

December  28. — Stuck  to  my  work.  Mr.  Scrope  came  to 
dinner,  and  remained  next  day.  We  were  expecting  young 
Percival  and  his  wife,  once  my  favourite  and  beautiful 
Nancy  M'Leod,  and  still  a  very  fine  woman ;  but  they  came 
not. 

In  bounced  G.  T[homson],  alarmed  by  an  anonymous 
letter,  which  acquainted  him  that  thirty  tents  full  of  Catho- 
lics were  coming  to  celebrate  high  mass  in  the  Abbey  church ; 
and  to  consult  me  on  such  a  precious  document  he  came 
prancing  about  seven  at  night.  I  hope  to  get  him  a  kirk 
before  he  makes  any  extraordinary  explosion  of  simplicity. 

December  29. — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Percival  came  to-day.  He  is 
son  of  the  late  lamented  statesman,  equally  distinguished  by 
talents  and  integrity.  The  son  is  a  clever  young  man,  and 
has  read  a  good  deal ;  pleasant,  too,  in  society ;  but  tampers 
with  phrenology,  which  is  unworthy  of  his  father's  son. 


1826.]  JOUKNAL.  329 

There  is  a  certain  kind  of  cleverish  men,  either  half  educated 
or  cock-brained  by  nature,  who  are  attached  to  that  same 
turnipology.  I  am  sorry  this  gentleman  should  take  such 
whims — sorry  even  for  his  name's  sake.  Walter  and  Jane 
arrived;  so  our  Christmas  party  thickens.  Sir  Adam  and 
Colonel  Ferguson  dined. 

December  30. — Wrote  and  wrought  hard,  then  went  out 
a  drive  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Percival ;  and  went  round  by  the 
lake.  If  my  days  of  good  fortune  should  ever  return  I  will 
lay  out  some  pretty  rides  at  Abbotsford. 

Last  day  of  an  eventful  year ;  much  evil  and  some  good ; 
but  especially  the  courage  to  endure  what  Fortune  sends 
without  becoming  a  pipe  for  her  fingers.1 

It  is  iwt  the  last  day  of  the  year,  but  to-morrow  being 
Sunday  we  hold  our  festival  of  neighbours  to-day  instead. 
The  Fergusons  came  en  masse,  and  we  had  all  the  usual 
appliances  of  mirth  and  good  cheer.  Yet  our  party,  like  the 
chariot- wheels  of  Pharaoh  in  the  Eed  Sea,  dragged  heavily. 

Some  of  the  party  grow  old  and  infirm ;  others  thought 
of  the  absence  of  the  hostess,  whose  reception  of  her  guests 
was  always  kind.  We  did  as  well  as  we  could,  however. 

"  It 's  useless  to  murmur  and  pout — 
There 's  no  good  in  making  ado  ; 
Tis  well  the  old  year  is  out, 
And  time  to  begin  a  new." 

Deceniber  31. — It  must  be  allowed  that  the  regular  re- 
currence of  annual  festivals  among  the  same  individuals  has, 
as  life  advances,  something  in  it  that  is  melancholy.  We 
meet  on  such  occasions  like  the  survivors  of  some  perilous 
expedition,  wounded  and  weakened  ourselves,  and  looking 
through  the  diminished  ranks  of  those  who  remain,  while  we 
think  of  those  who  are  no  more.  Or  they  are  like  the  feasts 
of  the  Caribs,  in  which  they  held  that  the  pale  and  speech- 
1  Hamlet,  Act  in.  Sc.  2.— j.  G.  L. 


330  JOUBNAL.  [DEC.  1826. 

less  phantoms  of  the  deceased  appeared  and  mingled  with 
the  living.  Yet  where  shall  we  fly  from  vain  repining  ?  Or 
why  should  we  give  up  the  comfort  of  seeing  our  friends, 
because  they  can  no  longer  be  to  us,  or  we  to  them,  what 
we  once  were  to  each  other  ? 


1827 


JANUARY. 

January  1. — God  make  this  a  happy  year  to  the  King 
and  country,  and  to  all  honest  men ! 

I  went  with  all  our  family  to-day  to  dine  as  usual  at 
the  kind  house  of  Huntly  Burn ;  but  the  same  cloud  which 
hung  over  us  on  Saturday  still  had  its  influence.  The  effect 
of  grief  upon  [those]  who,  like  myself  and  Sir  A.  F.,  are  highly 
susceptible  of  humour,  has,  I  think,  been  finely  touched  by 
Wordsworth  in  the  character  of  the  merry  village  teacher 
Matthew,  whom  Jeffrey  profanely  calls  the  hysterical 
schoolmaster.1  But,  with  my  friend  Jeffrey's  pardon,  I 
think  he  loves  to  see  imagination  best  when  it  is  bitted  and 
managed  and  ridden  upon  the  grand  pas.  He  does  not 
make  allowance  for  starts  and  sallies  and  bounds  when 
Pegasus  is  beautiful  to  behold,  though  sometimes  perilous  to 
his  rider.  Not  that  I  think  the  amiable  bard  of  Rydal 
shows  judgment  in  choosing  such  subjects  as  the  popular 
mind  cannot  sympathise  in.  It  is  unwise  and  unjust  to 
himself.  I  do  not  compare  myself,  in  point  of  imagination, 
with  Wordsworth — far  from  it;  for  [his]  is  naturally 
exquisite,  and  highly  cultivated  by  constant  exercise.  But 
I  can  see  as  many  castles  in  the  clouds  as  any  man,  as 
many  genii  in  the  curling  smoke  of  a  steam  engine,  as 
perfect  a  Persepolis  in  the  embers  of  a  sea-coal  fire.  My 
life  has  been  spent  in  such  day-dreams.  But  I  cry  no  roast- 
meat.  There  are  times  a  man  should  remember  what 
Eousseau  used  to  say :  Tais-toi,  Jean-Jacques,  car  on  ne 
t'entend  pas  !  2 

1  "A  half -crazy  sentimental  per-          2  Mme.  de  Boufflers's  saying  to 
son." — Edin,  Rev.  No.  xxiii.  p.  135.     the  author  of  Julie. 
— j.  G.  L. 

333 


334  JOUKNAL.  [JAN. 

January  2. — I  had  resolved  to  mark  down  no  more 
griefs  and  groans,  but  I  must  needs  briefly  state  that  I 
am  nailed  to  my  chair  like  the  unhappy  Theseus.  The 
rheumatism,  exasperated  by  my  sortie  of  yesterday,  has 
seized  on  my  only  serviceable  knee — and  I  am,  by 
Proserpine,  motionless  as  an  anvil.  Leeches  and  embro- 
cations are  all  I  have  for  it.  Diable  !  there  was  a  twinge. 
The  Eussells  and  Fergusons  here ;  but  I  was  fairly  driven 
off  the  pit  after  dinner,  and  compelled  to  retreat  to  my  own 
bed,  there  to  howl  till  morning  like  a  dog  in  his  solitary 
cabin. 

January  3. — Mending  slowly.  Two  things  are  comfort- 
able— 1st,  I  lose  no  good  weather  out  of  doors,  for  the 
ground  is  covered  with  snow  ;  2d,  That,  by  exerting  a  little 
stoicism,  I  can  make  my  illness  promote  the  advance  of 
Nap.  As  I  can  scarcely  stand,  however,  I  am  terribly 
awkward  at  consulting  books,  maps,  etc.  The  work  grows 
under  my  hand,  however;  vol.  vi.  [Napoleon]  will  be 
finished  this  week,  I  believe.  Eussells  being  still  with  us, 
I  was  able  by  dint  of  handing  and  chairing  to  get  to  the 
dining-room  and  the  drawing-room  in  the  evening. 

Talking  of  Wordsworth,  he  told  Anne  and  me  a  story, 
the  object  of  which  was  to  show  that  Crabbe  had  not 
imagination.  He,  Sir  George  Beaumont,  and  Wordsworth 
were  sitting  together  in  Murray  the  bookseller's  back-room. 
Sir  George,  after  sealing  a  letter,  blew  out  the  candle,  which 
had  enabled  him  to  do  so,  and,  exchanging  a  look  with 
Wordsworth,  began  to  admire  in  silence  the  undulating 
thread  of  smoke  which  slowly  arose  from  the  expiring  wick, 
when  Crabbe  put  on  the  extinguisher.  Anne  laughed  at 
the  instance,  and  inquired  if  the  taper  was  wax,  and 
being  answered  in  the  negative,  seemed  to  think  that 
there  was  no  call  on  Mr.  Crabbe  to  sacrifice  his  sense 
of  smell  to  their  admiration  of  beautiful  and  evanescent 
forms.  In  two  other  men  I  should  have  said  "this  is 


1827.]  JOURNAL.  335 

affectations," l  with  Sir  Hugh  Evans ;  but  Sir  George  is  the 
man  in  the  world  most  void  of  affectation ;  and  then  he  is 
an  exquisite  painter,  and  no  doubt  saw  where  the  incident 
would  have  succeeded  in  painting.  The  error  is  not  in  you 
yourself  receiving  deep  impressions  from  slight  hints,  but  in 
supposing  that  precisely  the  same  sort  of  impression  must 
arise  in  the  mind  of  men  otherwise  of  kindred  feeling,  or 
that  the  commonplace  folks  of  the  world  can  derive  such 
inductions  at  any  time  or  under  any  circumstances. 

January  4. — My  enemy  gained  some  strength  during  the 
watches  of  the  night,  but  has  again  succumbed  under 
scalding  fomentations  of  camomile  flowers.  I  still  keep  my 
state,  for  my  knee,  though  it  has  ceased  to  pain  me,  is  very 
feeble.  We  began  to  fill  the  ice-house  to-day.  Dine  alone 
— en  famille,  that  is,  Jane,  Anne,  Walter,  and  I.  Why,  this 
makes  up  for  aiches,  as  poor  John  Kemble  used  to  call  them. 
A.fter  tea  I  broke  off  work,  and  read  my  young  folks  the 
farce  of  the  Critic,  and  "  merry  folks  were  we." 

January  5. — I  waked,  or  aked  if  you  please,  for  five  or 
six  hours  I  think,  then  fevered  a  little.  I  am  better  though, 
God  be  thanked,  and  can  now  shuffle  about  and  help  myself 
to  what  I  want  without  ringing  every  quarter  of  an  hour. 
It  is  a  fine  clear  sunny  day ;  I  should  like  to  go  out,  but 
flannel  and  poultices  cry  nay.  So  I  drudge  away  with  the 
assisting  of  Pelet,  who  has  a  real  French  head,  believing  all 
he  desires  should  be  true,  and  affirming  all  he  wishes  should  be 
believed.  Skenes  (Mr.  and  Mrs.,  with  Miss  Jardine)  arrived 
about  six  o'clock.  Skene  very  rheumatic,  as  well  as  I  am. 

January  6. — Worked  till  dusk,  but  not  with  much  effect ; 
my  head  and  mind  not  clear  somehow.  W.  Laidlaw  at 
dinner.  In  the  evening  read  Foote's  farce  of  the  Com- 
missary, said  to  have  been  levelled  at  Sir  Lawrence  Dundas ; 
but  Sir  Lawrence  was  a  man  of  family.  Walter  and  Jane 
dined  at  Mertoun. 

1  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  Acti.  Sc.  1. — J.  o.  L. 


336  JOURNAL.  [JAN. 

January  7. — Wrought  till  twelve,  then  sallied  and 
walked  with  Skene  for  two  miles ;  home  and  corrected 
proofs,  and  to  a  large  amount.  Mr.  Scrope  and  George 
Thomson  dined. 

January  8. — Slept  well  last  night  in  consequence  I  think 
of  my  walk,  which  I  will,  God  willing,  repeat  to-day.  I 
wrote  some  letters  too  long  delayed,  and  sent  off  my  packets 
to  J.  B.  Letter  from  C.  Sharpe  very  pressing.  I  should 
employ  my  interest  at  Windsor  to  oppose  the  alterations  on 
the  town  of  Edinburgh.  "  One  word  from  you,  and  all  that." 
I  don't  think  I  shall  speak  that  word  though.  I  hate  the 
alterations,  that  is  certain ;  but  then  ne  accesseris  in  consi- 
lium  nisi  vocatus, — what  is  the  use  of  my  volunteering  an 
opinion  ?  Again,  the  value  of  many  people's  property  may 
depend  on  this  plan  going  forward.  Have  I  a  right  from 
mere  views  of  amenity  to  interfere  with  those  serious 
interests  ?  I  something  doubt  it.  Then  I  have  always  said 
that  I  never  meddle  in  such  work,  and  ought  I  sotto  voce 
now  to  begin  it  ?  By  my  faith  I  won't ;  there  are  enough  to 
state  the  case  besides  me.1 

The  young  Duke  of  B.  came  in  to  bid  us  good-bye,  as  he 
is  going  off  to  England.  God  bless  him !  He  is  a  hawk  of  a 
good  nest.  Afterwards  I  walked  to  the  Welsh  pool,  Skene 
declining  to  go,  for  I 


not  over  stout  of  limb, 


Seem  stronger  of  the  two." 
January  9. — This  morning  received  the  long-expected 

1  Mr.  Sharpe  was  doing  what  he  Sharpe's  letter  was  a  hint  to  him 

could  by  voice  and  pen  to  prevent  from  the  Court,  "that  one  person  is 

the  destruction  of  many  historic  all-powerful  in  everything  regarding 

buildings  in  Edinburgh,  which  the  Scotland,  I  mean  Sir  W.  S."  This 

craze  for  "improvements"  caused  was  not  the  only  appeal  made  to 

at  this  time.  St.  Giles'  Church  Scott  to  interpose,  and  that  he  had 

was  unfortunately  left  to  its  fate,  done  so  at  least  in  one  case  effectu- 

Witness  its  external  condition  at  ally  may  be  seen  by  referring  to 

the  present  day  !  Sharpe's  Letters,  vol.  ii.  pp.  380, 

The    immediate     cause    of    Mr.  388,  389. 


1827.]  JOURNAL.  337 

news  of  the  Duke  of  York's  death.1  I  am  sorry  both  on 
public  and  private  accounts.  His  E.H.  was,  while  he 
occupied  the  situation  of  next  in  the  royal  succession,  a 
Breakwater  behind  the  throne.  I  fear  his  brother  of 
Clarence's  opinions  may  be  different,  and  that  he  will  hoist 
a  standard  under  which  will  rendezvous  men  of  desperate 
hopes  and  evil  designs.  I  am  sorry,  too,  on  my  own 
account.  The  Duke  of  York  was  uniformly  kind  to  me, 
and  though  I  never  tasked  his  friendship  deeply,  yet  I  find 
a  powerful  friend  is  gone.  His  virtues  were  honour,  good 
sense,  integrity;  and  by  exertion  of  these  qualities  he 
raised  the  British  army  from  a  very  low  ebb  to  be  the  pride 
and  dread  of  Europe.  His  errors  were  those  of  a  sanguine 
and  social  temper;  he  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of 
deep  play,  which  was  fatally  allied  with  a  disposition  to 
the  bottle.  This  last  is  incident  to  his  complaint,  which 
vinous  influence  soothes  for  the  time,  while  it  insidiously 
increases  it  in  the  end. 

Here  blows  a  gale  of  wind.  I  was  to  go  to  Galashiels  to 
settle  some  f oolish  lawsuit,  and  afterwards  to  have  been  with 
Mr.  Kerr  of  Kippilaw  to  treat  about  a  march-dike.  I  shall 
content  myself  with  the  first  duty,  for  this  day  does  not  suit 
Bowden-moor. 

Went  over  to  Galashiels  like  the  devil  in  a  gale  of  wind, 
and  found  a  writer  contesting  with  half-a-dozen  unwashed 
artificers  the  possession  of  a  piece  of  ground  the  size  and 
shape  of  a  three-cornered  pocket-handkerchief.  Tried  to 
"  gar  them  gree,"  and  if  I  succeed,  I  shall  think  I  deserve 
something  better  than  the  touch  of  rheumatism,  which  is  like 
to  be  my  only  reward. 

Scotts  of  Harden  and  John  Pringle  of  Clifton  dined,  and 
we  got  on  very  well. 

January  10. — Enter  rheumatism,  and  takes  me  by  the 

1  Scott  sent  a  biographical  notice      eluded  in  the  Migc.  Prose  Works, 
of  the  Duke  of  York  to  the  Weekly     vol.  iv.  pp.  400-416. 
Journal  on  this  day.     It  is  now  in- 

Y 


338  JOURNAL.  [JAN. 

knee.  So  much  for  playing  the  peacemaker  iii  a  shower  of 
rain.  Nothing  for  it  but  patience,  cataplasm  of  camomile, 
and  labour  in  my  own  room  the  whole  day  till  dinner-time 
— then  company  and  reading  in  the  evening. 

January  11. — Ditto  repeated.  I  should  have  thought  I 
would  have  made  more  of  these  solitary  days  than  I  find  I 
can  do.  A  morning,  or  two  or  three  hours  before  dinner, 
have  often  done  more  efficient  work  than  six  or  seven  of 
these  hours  of  languor,  I  cannot  say  of  illness,  can  produce. 
A  bow  that  is  slackly  strung  will  never  send  an  arrow  very 
far.  Heavy  snow.  We  are  engaged  at  Mr.  Scrope's,  but  I 
think  I  shall  not  be  able  to  go.  I  remained  at  home  accord- 
ingly, and,  having  nothing  else  to  do,  worked  hard  and 
effectively.  I  believe  my  sluggishness  was  partly  owing  to 
the  gnawing  rheumatic  pain  in  my  knee,  for  after  all  I  am 
of  opinion  pain  is  an  evil,  let  Stoics  say  what  they  will. 
Thank  God,  it  is  an  evil  which  is  mending  with  me. 

January  12. — All  this  day  occupied  with  camomile 
poultices  and  pen  and  ink.  It  is  now  four  o'clock,  and  I 
have  written  yesterday  and  to-day  ten  of  my  pages — that  is, 
one-tenth  of  one  of  these  large  volumes — moreover,  I  have 
corrected  three  proof-sheets.  I  wish  it  may  not  prove  fool's 
haste,  yet  I  take  as  much  pains  too  as  is  in  my  nature. 

January  13. — The  Fergusons,  with  my  neighbours  Mr. 
Scrope  and  Mr.  Bainbridge  and  young  Hume,  eat  a  haunch 
of  venison  from  Drummond  Castle,  and  seemed  happy.  We 
had  music  and  a  little  dancing,  and  enjoyed  in  others  the 
buoyancy  of  spirit  that  we  no  longer  possess  ourselves.  Yet 
I  do  not  think  the  young  people  of  this  age  so  gay  as  we 
were.  There  is  a  turn  for  persiflage,  a  fear  of  ridicule 
among  them,  which  stifles  the  honest  emotions  of  gaiety  and 
lightness  of  spirit ;  and  people,  when  they  give  in  the  least 
to  the  expansion  of  their  natural  feelings,  are  always  kept 
under  by  the  fear  of  becoming  ludicrous.  To  restrain  your 
feelings  and  check  your  enthusiasm  in  the  cause  even  of 


1827.]  JOURNAL.  339 

pleasure  is  now  a  rule  among  people  of  fashion,  as  much  as 
it  used  to  be  among  philosophers. 

January  14. — Well — my  holidays  are  out — and  I  may 
count  my  gains  and  losses  as  honest  Robinson  Crusoe  used 
to  balance  his  accounts  of  good  and  evil. 

I  have  not  been  able,  during  three  weeks,  to  stir  above 
once  or  twice  from  the  house.  But  then  I  have  executed  a 
great  deal  of  work,  which  would  be  otherwise  unfinished. 

Again  I  have  sustained  long  and  sleepless  nights  and 
much  pain.  True ;  but  no  one  is  the  worse  of  the  thoughts 
which  arise  in  the  watches  of  the  night;  and  for  pain,  the  com- 
plaint which  brought  on  this  rheumatism  was  not  so  painful 
perhaps,  but  was  infinitely  more  disagreeable  and  depressing. 

Something  there  has  been  of  dulness  in,  our  little  reunions 
of  society  which  did  not  use  to  cloud  them.  But  I  have  seen 
all  my  own  old  and  kind  friends,  with  my  dear  children 
(Charles  alone  excepted);  and  if  we  did  not  rejoice  with 
perfect  joy,  it  was  overshadowed  from  the  same  sense  of  regret. 

Again,  this  new  disorder  seems  a  presage  of  the  advance 
of  age  with  its  infirmities.  But  age  is  but  the  cypress  avenue 
which  terminates  in  the  tomb,  where  the  weary  are  at  rest. 

I  have  been  putting  my  things  to  rights  to  go  off  to- 
morrow. Though  I  always  wonder  why  it  should  be  so,  I 
feel  a  dislike  to  order  and  to  task- work  of  all  kinds — a  pre- 
dominating foible  in  my  disposition.  I  do  not  mean  that  it 
influences  me  in  morals ;  for  even  in  youth  I  had  a  disgust  at 
gross  irregularities  of  any  kind,  and  such  as  I  ran  into  were 
more  from  compliance  with  others  and  a  sort  of  false  shame, 
than  any  pleasure  I  sought  or  found  in  dissipation.  But  what 
I  mean  is  a  detestation  of  precise  order  in  petty  matters — in 
reading  or  answering  letters,  in  keeping  my  papers  arranged 
and  in  order,  and  so  on.  Weber,  and  then  Gordon,  used  to 
keep  my  things  in  some  order — now  they  are  verging  to  utter 
confusion.  And  then  I  have  let  my  cash  run  ahead  since 
I  came  from  the  Continent — I  must  slump  the  matter  as  I  can. 


340  JOUBNAL.  [JAN. 

[Walker  Street],  January  15. — Off  we  came,  and  despite 
of  rheumatism  I  got  through  the  journey  comfortably. 
Greeted  on  my  arrival  by  a  number  of  small  accounts 
whistling  like  grape-shot ;  they  are  of  no  great  avail,  and 
incurred,  I  see,  chiefly  during  the  time  of  illness.  But  I 
believe  it  will  take  me  some  hard  work  till  I  pay  them,  and 
how  to  get  the  time  to  work  ?  It  will  be  hard  purchased  if, 
as  I  think  not  unlikely,  this  bitch  of  a  rheumatism  should 
once  more  pin  me  to  my  chair.  Coming  through  Galashiels, 
we  met  the  Laird  of  Torwoodlee,  who,  on  hearing  how  long 
I  had  been  confined,  asked  how  I  bore  it,  observing  that  he 
had  once  in  his  life  (Torwoodlee  must  be  between  sixty  and 
seventy)  been  confined  for  five  days  to  the  house,  and  was 
like  to  hang  himself.  I  regret  God's  free  air  as  much  as  any 
man,  but  I  could  amuse  myself  were  it  in  the  Bastile. 

January  16. — Went  to  Court,  and  returned  through  a 
curious  atmosphere,  half  mist,  half  rain,  famous  for  rheumatic 
joints.  Yet  I  felt  no  increase  of  my  plaguey  malady,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  am  rather  better.  I  had  need,  otherwise  a 
pair  of  crutches  for  life  were  my  prettiest  help. 

Walter  dined  with  us  to-day,  Jane  remaining  with  her 
mother.  The  good  affectionate  creatures  leave  us  to-morrow. 
God  send  them  a  quick  passage  through  the  Irish  Channel ! 
They  go  to  Gort,  where  Walter's  troop  is  lying — a  long 
journey  for  winter  days. 

January  17. — Another  proper  day  of  mist,  sleet,  and  rain, 
through  which  I  navigated  homeward.  I  imagine  the 
distance  to  be  a  mile  and  a  half.  It  is  a  good  thing  to 
secure  as  much  exercise. 

I  observed  in  the  papers  my  old  friend  Gifford's  funeral. 
He  was  a  man  of  rare  attainments  and  many  excellent 
qualities.  The  translation  of  Juvenal  is  one  of  the  best 
versions  ever  made  of  a  classical  author,  and  his  satire  of  the 
Baviad  and  Maeviad  squabashed  at  one  blow  a  set  of  cox- 
combs who  might  have  humbugged  the  world  long  enough. 


1827.]  JOUENAL.  341 

As  a  commentator  he  was  capital,  could  he  but  have  sup- 
pressed his  rancour  against  those  who  had  preceded  him  in 
the  task,  but  a  misconstruction  or  misinterpretation,  nay,  the 
misplacing  of  a  comma,  was  in  Gifford's  eyes  a  crime  worthy 
of  the  most  severe  animadversion.  The  same  fault  of  extreme 
severity  went  through  his  critical  labours,  and  in  general  he 
flagellated  with  so  little  pity,  that  people  lost  their  sense  of 
the  criminal's  guilt  in  dislike  of  the  savage  pleasure  which 
the  executioner  seemed  to  take  in  inflicting  the  punishment. 
This  lack  of  temper  probably  arose  from  indifferent 
health,  for  he  was  very  valetudinary,  and  realised  two 
verses,  wherein  he  says  fortune  assigned  him — 

" One  eye  not  over  good, 

Two  sides  that  to  their  cost  have  stood 

A  ten  years'  hectic  cough, 
Aches,  stitches,  all  the  various  ills 
That  swell  the  dev'lish  doctor's  bills, 
And  sweep  poor  mortals  off." 

But  he  might  also  justly  claim,  as  his  gift,  the  moral 
qualities  expressed  in  the  next  fine  stanza — 

" A  soul 

That  spurns  the  crowd's  malign  control, 

A  firm  contempt  of  wrong  : 
Spirits  above  afflictions'  power, 
And  skill  to  soothe  the  lingering  hour 

With  no  inglorious  song."  1 

January  18. — To  go  on  with  my  subject — Clifford  was  a 
little  man,  dumpled  up  together,  and  so  ill-made  as  to  seem 
almost  deformed,  but  with  a  singular  expression  of  talent  in 
his  countenance.  Though  so  little  of  an  athlete,  he  never- 
theless beat  off  Dr.  Wolcot,  when  that  celebrated  person, 
the  most  unsparing  calumniator  of  his  time,  chose  to  be 
offended  with  Gifford  for  satirising  him  in  his  turn.  Peter 
Pindar  made  a  most  vehement  attack,  but  Gifford  had  the 
best  of  the  affray,  and  remained,  I  think,  in  triumphant 

i  Gifford's  Mceviad,  12mo,  Lond.  1797 ;   Ode  to  Rev.  John  Ireland, 
slightly  altered. 


342  JOUENAL.  [JAN. 

possession  of  the  field  of  action,  and  of  the  assailant's  cane. 
Gifford  had  one  singular  custom.  He  used  always  to  have  a 
duenna  of  a  housekeeper  to  sit  in  his  study  with  him  while  he 
wrota  This  female  companion  died  when  I  was  in  London, 
and  his  distress  was  extreme.  I  afterwards  heard  he  got  her 
place  supplied.  I  believe  there  was  no  scandal  in  all  this.1 

This  is  another  vile  day  of  darkness  and  rain,  with  a 
heavy  yellow  mist  that  might  become  Charing  Cross — one 
of  the  benefits  of  our  extended  city ;  for  that  in  our  atmo- 
sphere was  unknown  till  the  extent  of  the  buildings  below 
Queen  Street.  M'Culloch  of  Ardwell  called. 

Wrought  chiefly  on  a  critique  of  Mrs.  Charlotte  Smith's 
novels,2  and  proofs. 

January  19. — Uncle  Adam,3  vide  Inheritance,  who  re- 
tired last  year  from  an  official  situation  at  the  age  of  eighty- 
four,  although  subject  to  fits  of  giddiness,  and  although 
carefully  watched  by  his  accomplished  daughter,  is  still  in 
the  habit  of  walking  by  himself  if  he  can  by  possibility 
make  an  escape.  The  other  day,  in  one  of  these  excursions, 
he  fell  against  a  lamp-post,  cut  himself  much,  bled  a  good 
deal,  and  was  carried  home  by  two  gentlemen.  What  said 
old  Eugged-and-Tough  ?  Why,  that  his  fall  against  the 
post  was  the  luckiest  thing  could  have  befallen  him,  for  the 
bleeding  was  exactly  the  remedy  for  his  disorder. 
"  Lo  !  stout  hearts  of  men  ! " 


1  William  Gifford,  editor  of  the      political    opponent,    Leigh    Hunt, 
Anti- Jacobin    in    1797,    and    the     wrote  of  him  in  1812  : — 
Quarterly  from  1809  to  1824.     His 

1  William  Gifford  "s  a  name,  I  think,  pretty  well  known. 
Oh  1  now  I  remember,"  said  Phoebus  ; — '  ah  true — 
My  thanks  to  that  name  are  undoubtedly  due. 
The  rod  that  got  rid  of  the  Cruscas  and  Lauras, 
That  plague  of  the  butterflies  saved  me  the  horrors, 
The  Juvenal  too  stops  a  gap  in  my  shelf, 
At  least  in  what  Dryden  has  not  done  himself, 
And  there 's  something  which  even  distaste  must  respect 
In  the  self-taught  example  that  conquered  neglect." — Feait  of  the  Poets. 

8  See  Miscell.  Prose  Works,  vol.          3  James  Ferrier,  Esq. — See  p.  103, 
iv.  pp.  20-70.  February  3,  1826. 


1827.]  JOUENAL.  343 

Called  on  said  "  uncle,"  also  on  David  Hume,  Lord  Chief- 
Commissioner,  Will  Clerk,  Mrs.  Jobson,  and  others.  My 
knee  made  no  allowance  for  my  politeness,  but  has  begun 
to  swell  again,  and  to  burn  like  a  scorpion's  bite. 

January  20. — Scarce  slept  all  night ;  scarce  able  to  stand 
or  move  this  morning ;  almost  an  absolute  fixture. 

"  A  sleepless  knight, 
A  weary  knight, 

God  be  the  guide." l 

This  is  at  the  Court  a  blank  day,  being  that  of  the  poor  Duke 
of  York's  funeral.  I  can  sit  at  home,  luckily,  and  fag  hard. 

And  so  I  have,  pretty  well ;  six  leaves  written,  and  four 
or  five  proof-sheets  corrected.  Cadell  came  to  breakfast,  and 
proposes  an  eighth  volume  for  Napoleon.  I  told  him  he 
might  write  to  Longman  for  their  opinion.  Seven  is  an 
awkward  number,  and  will  extremely  cramp  the  work. 
Eight,  too,  would  go  into  six  octavos,  should  it  ever  be  called 
for  in  that  shape.  But  it  shall  be  as  they  list  to  have  it. 

January  21. — A  long  day  of  some  pain  relieved  by  labour. 
Dr.  Eoss  came  in  and  recommended  some  stuff,  which  did 
little  good.  I  would  like  ill  to  lose  the  use  of  my  precious 
limbs.  Meanwhile,  Patience,  cousin,  and  shuffle  the  cards. 

Missie  dined  with  us  to-day — an  honest  Scotch  lass,  lady- 
like and  frank.  I  finished  about  six  leaves,  doing  indeed 
little  else. 

January  22. — Work,  varied  with  camomile;  we  get 
on,  though.  A  visit  from  Basil  Hall,  with  Mr.  Audubon 
the  ornithologist,  who  has  followed  that  pursuit  by  many  a 
long  wandering  in  the  American  forests.  He  is  an  American 
by  naturalisation,  a  Frenchman  by  birth;2  but  less  of  a 
Frenchman  than  I  have  ever  seen — no  dash,  or  glimmer, 

1  See  Midsummer  Nigtit's  Dream  ;         2  John  James  Audubon  was  born 
a  parody  on  Helena's  in  Louisiana  in  the  United  States  in 

"O  weary  night  1780»    but  educated    in    France.— 

O  long  and  tedious  night."          „       Buchanan's  Life  of  Audubon,  p.  4. 


344  JOUKNAL  [JAN. 

or  shine  about  him,  but  great  simplicity  of  manners  and 
behaviour;  slight  in  person,  and  plainly  dressed;  wears 
long  hair,  which  time  has  not  yet  tinged ;  his  countenance 
acute,  handsome,  and  interesting,  but  still  simplicity  is  the 
predominant  characteristic.  I  wish  I  had  gone  to  see  his 
drawings;  but  I  had  heard  so  much  about  them  that  I 
resolved  not  to  see  them — "a  crazy  way  of  mine,  your 
honour." — Five  more  leaves  finished. 

January  23. — I  have  got  a  piece  of  armour,  a  knee-cap 
of  chamois  leather,  which  I  think  does  my  unlucky 
rheumatism  some  good.  I  begin,  too,  to  sleep  at  night, 
which  is  a  great  comfort.  Spent  this  day  completely  in 
labour;  only  betwixt  dinner  and  tea,  while  husbanding  a 
tumbler  of  whisky  and  water,  I  read  the  new  novel,  Eliza- 
beth de  Bruce x — part  of  it,  that  is. 

January  24. — Visit  from  Mr.  Audubon,  who  brings  some 
of  his  birds.  The  drawings  are  of  the  first  order — the 
attitudes  of  the  birds  of  the  most  animated  character,  and 
the  situations  appropriate ;  one  of  a  snake  attacking  a  bird's 
nest,  while  the  birds  (the  parents)  peck  at  the  reptile's  eyes 
— they  usually,  in  the  long-run,  destroy  him,  says  the 
naturalist.  The  feathers  of  these  gay  little  sylphs,  most  of 
them  from  the  Southern  States,  are  most  brilliant,  and  are 
represented  with  what,  were  it  [not]  connected  with  so  much 
spirit  in  the  attitude,  I  would  call  a  laborious  degree  of 

1  Written  by  Mrs.  J.  Johnstone,  Shepherd,  who  did  the  honours  of 

in    after    years    editor    of    Tail's  the  district,  and  among  other  places 

Magazine,  well  known  also  as  the  took  them  to  a  Fairy  Well,  from 

author  of  Meg  Dods'  Cookery  Book,  which  he  drew  a  glass  of  sparkling 

which  Sir  Walter  refers  to  in  St.  water.     Handing  it  to  the  lady  the 

Ronaris  Well.    Her  sense  of  humour  bard  of  Kilmeny  said,  "Hae,  Mrs. 

and  power  of  delineating  character  Johnstone,  ony  merrit  wumman  wha 

are  shown  in  her  stories  and  sketches  drinks  a  tumbler  of  this  will  hae 

in  Tait,  and  a  good  example  of  her  twuns    in    a     twalmont'!"      "In 

ready  wit  has  been  told   by  Mr.  that  case,  Mr.  Hogg,"  replied  the 

Alexander    Russel,   editor    of    the  lady,    "I  shall    only  take   half  a 

Scotsman.     On    a  visit  to  Altrive  tumbler." 

Mrs.  Johnstone  and  her  party  were  Mrs.    Johnstone  died    in    Edin- 

kindly    received    by    the     Ettrick  burgh  in  1857. 


1827.]  JOURNAL.  345 

execution.  This  extreme  correctness  is  of  the  utmost  con- 
sequence to  the  naturalist,  [but]  as  I  think  (having  no 
knowledge  of  virtu),  rather  gives  a  stiffness  to  the  drawings. 
This  sojourner  in  the  desert  had  been  in  the  woods  for 
months  together.  He  preferred  associating  with  the  Indians 
to  the  company  of  the  Back  Settlers ;  very  justly,  I  daresay, 
for  a  civilised  man  of  the  lower  order — that  is,  the  dregs  of 
civilisation — when  thrust  back  on  the  savage  state  becomes 
worse  than  a  savage.  They  are  Wordsworth's  adventurer, 

"  Deliberate  and  undeceived 
The  wild  men's  vices  who  received, 
And  gave  them  back  his  own."  1 

The  Indians,  he  says,  are  dying  fast ;  they  seem  to  pine 
and  die  whenever  the  white  population  approaches  them. 
The  Shawanese,  who  amounted,  Mr.  Audubon  says,  to  some 
thousands  within  his  memory,  are  almost  extinct,  and  so  are 
various  other  tribes.  Mr.  Audubon  could  never  hear  any 
tradition  about  the  mammoth,  though  he  made  anxious 
inquiries.  He  gives  no  countenance  to  the  idea  that  the 
Red  Indians  were  ever  a  more  civilised  people  than  at  this 
day,  or  that  a  more  civilised  people  had  preceded  them  in 
North  America.  He  refers  the  bricks,  etc.,  occasionally 
found,  and  appealed  to  in  support  of  this  opinion,  to  the 
earlier  settlers, — or,  where  kettles  and  other  utensils  may 
have  been  found,  to  the  early  trade  between  the  Indians 
and  the  Spaniards. 

John  Russell 2  and  Leonard  Horner  3  came  to  consult  me 


1  Slightly  varied  from  the  lines  published  in   October    1855    some 
in  Ruth, — Poems,   vol.   ii.   p.   112,  curious  Statistics  of  a  Class  [Christi- 
Edinburgh,  1836.  son's]  in  the  High  School  [of  Edin- 
burgh] from  1787  to  1791,  of  which 

2  John  Russell  (a    grandson    of  he  had  been  a  member.    Mr.  Russell 
Principal    Robertson),   long    Chief  died  on  January  30,  1862. 

Clerk    in    the   Jury    Court,    and  3  Leonard  Horner,  editor  in  after 

Treasurer  to  the  Royal  Society  and  years  of  the  Memoirs  of  his  brother 

the  Edinburgh  Academy.     He  took  Francis  (2  vols.  8vo,  London,  1843). 

a  keen  interest  in  education,  and  He  died  in  1864. 


346  JOUENAL.  [JAN. 

about  the  propriety  and  possibility  of  retaining  the  northern 
pronunciation  of  the  Latin  in  the  new  Edinburgh  Academy.1 
I  will  think  of  it  until  to-morrow,  being  no  great  judge. 
We  had  our  solitary  dinner ;  indeed,  it  is  only  remarkable 
nowadays  when  we  have  a  guest. 

January  25. — Thought  during  the  watches  of  the  night 
and  a  part  of  the  morning  about  the  question  of  Latin 
pronunciation,  and  came  to  the  following  conclusions.  That 
the  mode  of  pronunciation  approved  by  Buchanan  and  by 
Milton,  and  practised  by  all  nations,  excepting  the  English, 
assimilated  in  sound,  too,  to  the  Spanish,  Italian,  and  other 
languages  derived  from  the  Latin,  is  certainly  the  best,  and 
is  likewise  useful  as  facilitating  the  acquisition  of  sounds 
which  the  Englishman  attempts  in  vain.  Accordingly  I 
wish  the  cockneyfied  pedant  who  first  disturbed  it  by  read- 
ing Emo  for  Amo,  and  quy  for  qui,  had  choked  in  the 
attempt.  But  the  question  is,  whether  a  youth  who  has 
been  taught  in  a  manner  different  from  that  used  all  over 
England  will  be  heard,  if  he  presumes  to  use  his  Latin  at 
the  bar  or  the  senate ;  and  if  he  is  to  be  unintelligible  or 
ludicrous,  the  question  [arises]  whether  his  education  is  not 
imperfect  under  one  important  view.  I  am  very  unwilling  to 
sacrifice  our  sumpsimus  to  their  old  mumpsimus — still  more 
to  humble  ourselves  before  the  Saxons  while  we  can  keep 
an  inch  of  the  Scottish  flag  flying.  But  this  is  a  question 
which  must  be  decided  not  on  partialities  or  prejudices. 

I  got  early  from  the  Court  to-day,  and  settled  myself  to 
work  hard. 

Janitary  26. — My  rheumatism  is  almost  gone.  I  can 
walk  without  Major  Weir,  which  is  the  name  Anne  gives 
my  cane,  because  it  is  so  often  out  of  the  way  that  it  is 

1  See  Report  by  the  Directors  to  school.     His  speech  as  Chairman  at 

the    Proprietors   of  the  Edinburgh  the  opening  ceremony,  on  the  1st 

Academy  on  the  Pronunciation    of  October  1824,  is  quoted  in  the  Life, 

Latin,  Edin.  1827.    Sir  Walter  al-  vol.  vii.  p.  268. 
ways  took  a  warm  interest  in  the 


1827.]  JOURNAL.  347 

suspected,  like  the  staff  of  that  famous  wizard,1  to  be  capable 
of  locomotion.  Went  to  Court,  and  tarried  till  three  o'clock, 
after  which  transacted  business  with  Mr.  Gibson  and  Dr. 
Inglis  as  one  of  Miss  Hume's  trustees.  Then  was  introduced 
to  young  Mr.  Eennie,2  or  he  to  me,  by  [Sir]  James  Hall,  a 
genteel-looking  young  man,  and  speaks  well.  He  was  called 
into  public  notice  by  having,  many  years  before,  made  a 
draught  of  a  plan  of  his  father's  for  London  Bridge.  It 
was  sought  for  when  the  building  was  really  about  to 
take  place,  and  the  assistance  which  young  Mr.  Rennie 
gave  to  render  it  useful  raised  his  character  so  high,  that 
his  brother  and  he  are  now  in  first-rate  practice  as  civil 
engineers. 

January  27. — Read  Elizabeth  de  Bruce ;  it  is  very  clever, 
but  does  not  show  much  originality.  The  characters,  though 
very  entertaining,  are  in  the  manner  of  other  authors,  and 
the  finished  and  filled-up  portraits  of  which  the  sketches 
are  to  be  found  elsewhere.  One  is  too  apt  to  feel  on  such 
occasions  the  pettish  resentment  that  you  might  entertain 
against  one  who  had  poached  on  your  manor.  But  the  case 
is  quite  different,  and  a  claim  set  up  on  having  been  the 
first  who  betook  himself  to  the  illustration  of  some  particular 
class  of  characters,  or  department  of  life,  is  no  more  a  right 
of  monopoly  than  that  asserted  by  the  old  buccaneers  by 
setting  up  a  wooden  cross,  and  killing  an  Indian  or  two  on 
some  new  discovered  island.  If  they  can  make  anything  of 
their  first  discovery,  the  better  luck  theirs ;  if  not,  let  others 
come,  penetrate  further  into  the  country,  write  descriptions, 
make  drawings  or  settlements  at  their  pleasure. 

We  were  kept  in  Parliament  House  till  three.  Called  to 
return  thanks  to  Mr.  Menzies  of  Pitfoddels,  who  lent  some 
pamphlets  about  the  unhappy  Duke  d'Enghien.  Read  in 

Burnt  at  Edinburgh  in  1670.  2  Afterwards  Sir  John  Rennie, 
— See  Arnot's  Grim.  Trials.  4to,  knighted  on  the  completion  of  the 
Edin.  1785.  Bridge. 


348  JOURNAL.  [JAN. 

the  evening  Boutourlin  and  Sfyur,  to  prepare  for  my  Russian 
campaign. 

January  28. — Continued  my  reading  with  the  com- 
mentary of  the  D.  of  W.1  If  his  broad  shoulders  cannot  carry 
me  through,  the  devil  must  be  in  the  dice.  Longman  and 
Company  agree  to  the  eight  volumes.  It  will  make  the  value 
of  the  book  more  than  £12,000.  Wrought  indifferent  hard. 

January  2  9. — Mr.  Gibson  breakfasted  with  Dr.  Marshman,2 
the  head  of  the  missionaries  at  Serampore,  a  great  Oriental 
scholar.  He  is  a  thin,  dark-featured,  middle-sized  man, 
about  fifty  or  upwards,  his  eye  acute,  his  hair  just  beginning 
to  have  a  touch  of  the  grey.  He  spoke  well  and  sensibly, 
and  seemed  liberal  in  his  ideas.  He  was  clearly  of  opinion 
that  general  information  must  go  hand  in  hand,  or  even 
ought  to  precede  religious  instruction.  Thinks  the  influence 
of  European  manners  is  gradually  making  changes  in  India, 
The  natives,  so  far  as  their  religion  will  allow  them,  are 
become  fond  of  Europeans,  and  invite  them  to  their  great 
festivals.  He  has  a  conceit  that  the  Afghans  are  the  remains 
of  the  Ten  Tribes.  I  cannot  find  he  has  a  better  reason  than 
their  own  tradition,  which  calls  them  Ben-Israel,  and  says 
they  are  not  Ben-Judah.  They  have  Jewish  rites  and 
ceremonies,  but  so  have  all  Mahometans ;  neither  could  I 
understand  that  their  language  has  anything  peculiar.  The 
worship  of  Bhoodah  he  conceives  to  have  [been]  an  original, 
or  rather  the  original,  of  Hindu  religion,  until  the  Brahmins 
introduced  the  doctrines  respecting  caste  and  other  peculiar- 
ities. But  it  would  require  strong  proof  to  show  that  the 
superstition  of  caste  could  be  introduced  into  a  country 
which  had  been  long  peopled,  and  where  society  had  long 
existed  without  such  restriction.  It  is  more  like  to  be 
adopted  in  the  early  history  of  a  tribe,  when  there  are  but 

1  See  ante,  p.  307,  and  post,  p.      See    Marshman's  Lives    of   Carey, 
359.  Marshman,  and  Ward.     London,  2 

2  Dr.    Marshman  died    in   1837.      vols.  8vo,  1859. 


1827.]  JOUKNAL.  349 

few  individuals,  the  descent  of  whom  is  accurately  preserved. 
How  could  the  castes  be  distinguished  or  told  off  in  a  populous 
nation  ?  Dr.  Marshman  was  an  old  friend  of  poor  John  Leyden. 

January  30. — Blank  day  at  Court,  being  the  Martyrdom. 
Wrought  hard  at  Bon.  all  day,  though  I  had  settled  other- 
wise. I  ought  to  have  been  at  an  article  for  John  Lockhart, 
and  one  for  poor  Gillies ;  but  there  is  something  irresistible  in 
contradiction,  even  when  it  consists  in  doing  a  thing  equally 
laborious,  but  not  the  thing  you  are  especially  called  upon  to 
do.  It  is  a  kind  of  cheating  the  devil,  which  a  self-willed 
monster  like  me  is  particularly  addicted  to.  Not  to  make  my- 
self worse  than  I  am  though,  I  was  full  of  information  about 
the  Kussian  campaign,  which  might  evaporate  unless  used, 
like  lime,  as  soon  after  it  was  wrought  up  as  possible.  About 
three,  Pitfoddels  called.  A  bauld  crack  that  auld  papist  body, 
and  well  informed.  "We  got  on  religion.  He  is  very  angry 
with  the  Irish  demagogues,  and  a  sound  well-thinking  man.1 
Heard  of  Walter  and  Jane ;  all  well,  God  be  praised ! 

By  a  letter  from  Gibson  I  see  the  gross  proceeds  of 
Bonaparte,  at  eight  volumes,  are  .  .  £12,600  0  0 
Discount,  five  months,  .  .  .  .  210  0  0 


£12,390     0     0 

I  question  if  more  was  ever  made  by  a  single  work,  or  by  a 
single  author's  labours,  in  the  same  time.  But  whether  it  is 
deserved  or  not  is  the  question. 

January  31. — Young  Murray,  son  of  Mr.  M.,  in 
Albemarle  Street,  breakfasted  with  me.  English  boys  have 
this  advantage,  that  they  are  well-bred,  and  can  converse 

1  John  Menzies  of  Pitfoddels,  the  Blairs,    near    Aberdeen,     for    the 

last  of  an  old  Aberdeenshire  family,  foundation  of  the  Roman  Catholic 

of  whom  it  was  said  that  for  thirty-  College  established  there,  and  was 

seven  years  he  never  became  aware  also  a  munificent  benefactor  to  the 

of    distress    or    difficulty    without  Convent  of  St.  Margaret,  Edinburgh, 

exerting  himself  to  relieve  it.     In  opened  in  1835.     Mr.  Menzies  died 

1828     he     gave     the      estate     of  in  1843. 


350  JOUKNAL.  [JAN.  1827. 

when  ours  are  regular-built  cubs.  I  am  not  sure  if  it  is  an 
advantage  in  the  long-run.  It  is  a  temptation  to  premature 
display. 

Wet  to  the  skin  coming  from  the  Court.  Called  on 
Skene,  to  give  him,  for  the  Antiquarian  Society,  a  heart, 
human  apparently,  stuck  full  of  pins.  It  was  found  lying 
opposite  to  the  threshold  of  an  old  tenement,  in  [Dalkeith], 
a  little  below  the  surface ;  it  is  in  perfect  preservation. 
Dined  at  the  Bannatyne  Club,  where  I  am  chairman.  We 
admitted  a  batch  of  new  members,  chiefly  noblemen  and 
men  connected  with  the  public  offices  and  records  in 
London,  such  as  Palgrave,  Petrie,  etc.  We  drank  to  our 
old  Scottish  heroes,  poets,  historians,  and  printers,  and 
were  funny  enough,  though,  like  Shylock,  I  had  no  will 
to  go  abroad.  I  was  supported  by  Lord  Minto  and  Lord 
Eldin. 


FEBKUAKY. 

February  1. — I  feel  a  return  of  the  cursed  rheumatism. 
How  could  it  miss,  with  my  wetting  ?  Also  feverish,  and  a 
slight  headache.  So  much  for  claret  and  champagne.  I 
begin  to  be  quite  unfit  for  a  good  fellow.  Like  Mother  Cole 
in  the  Minor,  a  thimbleful  upsets  me,1 — I  mean,  annoys  my 
stomach,  for  my  brains  do  not  suffer.  Well,  I  have  had  my 
time  of  these  merry  doings. 

"  The  haunch  of  the  deer,  and  the  wine's  red  dye, 
Never  bard  loved  them  better  than  I." 

But  it  was  for  the  sake  of  sociality ;  never  either  for  the 
flask  or  the  venison.  That  must  end — is  ended.  The 
evening  sky  of  life  does  not  reflect  those  brilliant  flashes  of 
light  that  shot  across  its  morning  and  noon.  Yet  I  thank 
God  it  is  neither  gloomy  nor  disconsolately  lowering ;  a 
sober  twilight — that  is  all. 

I  am  in  great  hopes  that  the  Bannatyne  Club,  by  the 
assistance  of  Thomson's  wisdom,  industry,  and  accuracy,  will 
be  something  far  superior  to  the  Dilettanti  model  on 
which  it  started.  The  Historic  of  K.  James  VI.,  Melville's 
Memoirs,  and  other  works,  executed  or  in  hand,  are  decided 
boons  to  Scottish  history  and  literature. 

February  2. — In  confirmation  of  that  which  is  above 
stated,  I  see  in  Thorpe's  sale-catalogue  a  set  of  the 
Bannatyne  books,  lacking  five,  priced  £25.  Had  a  dry  walk 
from  the  Court  by  way  of  dainty,  and  made  it  a  long  one. 
Anne  went  at  night  to  Lady  Minto's. 

Hear  of  Miss  White's  death.  Poor  Lydia !  she  had  a 
party  at  dinner  on  the  Friday  before,  and  had  written  with 

1  Foote's  Comedy,  Act  I.  Sc.  1. 

351 


352  JOUKNAL.  [FEB. 

her  own  hand  invitations  for  another  party.  Twenty  years 
ago  she  used  to  tease  me  with  her  youthful  affectations — 
her  dressing  like  the  Queen  of  Chimney-sweeps  on  May-day 
morning,  and  sometimes  with  rather  a  free  turn  in  conversa- 
tion, when  she  let  her  wit  run  wild.  But  she  was  a  woman 
of  much  wit,  and  had  a  feeling  and  kind  heart.  She  made 
her  point  good,  a  bas-Ueu  in  London  to  a  point  not  easily 
attained,  and  contrived  to  have  every  evening  a  very  good 
literary  in6Ue,  and  little  dinners  which  were  very  enter- 
taining. She  had  also  the  newest  lions  upon  town.  In  a 
word,  she  was  not  and  would  not  be  forgotten,  even  when 
disease  obliged  her,  as  it  did  for  years,  to  confine  herself  to 
her  couch ;  and  the  world,  much  abused  for  hard-hearted- 
ness,  was  kind  in  her  case — so  she  lived  in  the  society  she 
liked.  No  great  expenditure  was  necessary  for  this.  She 
had  an  easy  fortune,  but  not  more.  Poor  Lydia !  I  saw  the 
Duke  of  York  and  her  in  London,  when  Death,  it  seems,  was 
brandishing  his  dart  over  them.1 

"The  view  o't  gave  them  little  fright." 2 

Did  not  get  quite  a  day's  work  finished  to-day,  thanks 
to  my  walk. 

February  3. — There  is  nought  but  care  on  every  hand. 
James  Hogg  writes  that  he  is  to  lose  his  farm,3  on  which  he 
laid  out,  or  rather  threw  away,  the  profit  of  all  his  publications. 

Then  Terry  has  been  pressed  by  Gibson  for  my  debt  to 
him.  That  I  may  get  managed. 

I  sometimes  doubt  if  I  am  in  what  the  good  people  call 
the  right  way.  Not  to  sing  my  own  praises,  I  have  been 

1  Scott,  who  had  accompanied  nineteen  times  dyed  blue ;  very 
this  lady  to  the  Highlands  in  the  lively,  very  good-humoured,  and 
summer  of  1808,  wrote  from  Edin-  extremely  absurd.  It  is  very  di vert- 
burgh  on  19th  January : — "We  have  ing  to  see  the  sober  Scotch  ladies 
here  a  very  diverting  lion  and  staring  at  this  phenomenon." — Life, 
sundry  wild  beasts ;  but  the  most  vol.  iii.  pp.  38,  95,  96. 

meritorious  is  Miss  Lydia  White,  ..  _       ~        „ 

,     .       ,    ,  .  ,,     ,.  2  Burns  s  "  Twa  Dogs." — J.  G.  L. 

who  is  what  Oxonians  call  a  lioness 

of  the  first  order,  with  stockings         3  Mount  Benger. 


1827.]  JOURNAL.  353 

willing  always  to  do  my  friends  what  good  was  in  my  power, 
and  have  not  shunned  personal  responsibility.  But  then 
that  was  in  money  matters,  to  which  I  am  naturally  in- 
different, unless  when  the  consequences  press  on  me.  But 
then  I  am  a  bad  comforter  in  case  of  inevitable  calamity ; 
and  feeling  proudly  able  to  endure  in  my  own  case,  I  cannot 
sympathise  with  those  whose  nerves  are  of  a  feebler  texture. 

Dined  at  Jeffrey's,  with  Lord  and  Lady  Minto,  John 
Murray  and  his  lady,1  a  Mr.  Featherstone,  an  Americo- 
Yorkshireman,  and  some  others.  Mrs.  Murray  is  a  very 
amiable  person,  and  seems  highly  accomplished ;  plays  most 
brilliantly. 

February  4. — RE.  These  two  letters,  you  must  under- 
stand, do  not  signify,  as  in  Bibliomania  phrase,  a  double 
degree  of  rarity,  but,  chirurgically,  a  double  degree  of  rheu- 
matism. The  wine  gets  to  weak  places,  Eoss  says.  I  have 
a  letter  from  no  less  a  person  than  that  pink  of  booksellers, 
Sir  Eichard  Phillips,  who,  it  seems,  has  been  ruined,  and  as 
he  sees  me  floating  down  the  same  dark  tide,  sings  out  his 
nospoma  natamus. 

February  5. — E.  One  E.  will  do  to-day.  If  this  cursed 
rheumatism  gives  way  to  February  weather,  I  will  allow  she 
has  some  right  to  be  called  a  spring  month,  to  which  other- 
wise her  pretensions  are  slender.  I  worked  this  morning 
till  two  o'clock,  and  visited  Mr.  Grant's 2  pictures,  who  has 
them  upon  sale.  They  seem,  to  my  inexperienced  eye, 

1  John  Archibald  Murray,  whose  Lord    Cockburn,    the    delights    of 

capital  bachelors'  dinner  on  Dec.  8  Strachur  on  Loch  Fyne. 

Scott   so   pleasantly  describes  (on  J  Mr.    (afterwards    Sir   Francis) 

page  320),  had  married  in  the  in-  Grant  became   a   member   of    the 

terval  Miss    Higby,  a   Lancashire  Scottish  Academy  in  1830,  an  asso- 

lady,  who  was  long  known  in  Edin-  ciate  of  Royal  Academy  in   1842, 

burgh  for  her  hospitality  and  fine  and  Academician  in  1851.    His  suc- 

social  qualities  as  Lady  Murray,  cessful  career  as  a  painter  secured 

(See  page  378,  April  2,  1827. )  Miss  his  elevation  to  the  Presidentship  of 

Martineau  celebrated  her  parliamen-  the  Academy  in  1866.     Sir  Francis 

tary  Tea-Table  in  London,  when  her  died  at  Melton-Mowbray  in  October 

husband  was  Lord  Advocate,  and  1878,  aged  75. 


354  JOUKNAL.  [FEB. 

genuine,  or  at  least,  good  paintings.  But  I  fear  picture- 
buying,  like  horse-jockey  ship,  is  a  profession  a  gentleman 
cannot  make  much  of  without  laying  aside  some  of  his 
attributes.  The  pictures  are  too  high-priced,  I  should  think, 
for  this  market.  There  is  a  very  knowing  catalogue  by 
Frank  Grant  himself.  Next  went  to  see  a  show  of  wild 
beasts ;  it  was  a  fine  one.  I  think  they  keep  them  much 
cleaner  than  formerly,  when  the  strong  smell  generally  gave 
me  a  headache  for  the  day.  The  creatures  are  also  much 
tamer,  which  I  impute  to  more  knowledge  of  their  habits 
and  kind  treatment.  A  lion  and  tigress  went  through  their 
exercise  like  poodles — jumping,  standing,  and  lying  down  at 
the  word  of  command.  This  is  rather  degrading.  I  would 
have  the  Lord  Chancellor  of  Beasts  good-humoured,  not 
jocose.  I  treated  the  elephant,  who  was  a  noble  fellow,  to 
a  shilling's  worth  of  cakes.  I  wish  I  could  have  enlarged 
the  space  in  which  so  much  bulk  and  wisdom  is  confined. 
He  kept  swinging  his  head  from  side  to  side,  looking  as  if 
he  marvelled  why  all  the  fools  that  gaped  at  him  were  at 
liberty,  and  he  cooped  up  in  the  cage. 

Dined  at  the  Eoyal  Society  Club — about  thirty  present. 
Went  to  the  Society  in  the  evening,  and  heard  an  essay  by 
Peter  Tytler l  on  the  first  encourager  of  Greek  learning  in 
England.2 

February  6. — Was  at  Court  till  two ;  afterwards  wrote  a 

1  Patrick  Fraser  Tytler,  the  Scot-  pleted  in  1839,  forming  4  vols.  in 

tish  historian.  He  died  on  Christ-  the  largest  folio  size,  and  containing 

mas-day  1849,  aged  fifty-eight. — See  435  plates.  It  shows  the  indomit- 

Burgon's  Memoirs,  8vo,Lond.  1859.  able  courage  of  the  author,  that 

4  Audubon  says  in  his  Journal  of  even  when  the  work  was  completed, 

the  same  date: — "Captain  Hall  led  he  had  only  161  subscribers,  82  of 

me  to  a  seat  immediately  opposite  whom  were  in  America.  The  price 

to  Sir  Walter  Scott,  the  President,  of  the  book  was  two  guineas  for 

where  I  had  a  perfect  view  of  the  each  part  with  5  coloured  plates, 

great  man,  and  studied  Nature  from  During  the  last  dozen  years  its 

Nature's  noblest  work."  price  at  auctions  runs  about  £250 

The  publication  of  Audubon's  to  £300.  Audubon  died  in  New 

great  work,  The  Birds  of  America,  York  in  1851. — See  Life,  by  Bnch- 

commenced  in  1827,  and  was  com-  anan,  8vo,  London,  1866. 


1827.]  JOUKNAL.  355 

good  deal,  which  has  become  a  habit  with  me.  Dined  at 
Sir  John  Hay's,  where  met  the  Advocate  and  a  pleasant 
party.  There  had  been  a  Justiciary  trial  yesterday,  in 
which  something  curious  had  occurred.  A  woman  of  rather 
the  better  class,  a  farmer's  wife,  had  been  tried  on  the  5th 
for  poisoning  her  maid-servant.  There  seems  to  have  been 
little  doubt  of  her  guilt,  but  the  motive  was  peculiar.  The 
unfortunate  girl  had  an  intrigue  with  her  son,  which  this 
Mrs.  Smith  (I  think  that  is  the  name)  was  desirous  to  con- 
ceal, from  some  ill-advised  puritanic  notions,  and  also  for 
fear  of  her  husband.  She  could  find  no  better  way  of  hiding 
the  shame  than  giving  the  girl  (with  her  own  knowledge 
and  consent,  I  believe)  potions  to  cause  abortion,  which  she 
afterwards  changed  for  arsenic,  as  the  more  effectual  silencing 
medicine.  In  the  course  of  the  trial  one  of  the  jury  fell 
down  in  an  epileptic  fit,  and  on  his  recovery  was  far  too 
much  disordered  to  permit  the  trial  to  proceed.  With  only 
fourteen  jurymen  it  was  impossible  to  go  on.  But  the 
Advocate,  Sir  William  Eae,  says  she  shall  be  tried  anew, 
since  she  has  not  tholed  an  assize.  Sic  Paulus  ait — et  recte 
quidem.  But,  having  been  half  tried,  I  think  she  should 
have  some  benefit  of  it,  as  far  as  saving  her  life,  if  convicted 
on  the  second  indictment.  The  Advocate  declares,  however, 
she  shall  be  hanged,  as  certainly  she  deserves.  But  it  looks 
something  like  hanging  up  a  man  who  has  been  recovered 
by  the  surgeons,  which  has  always  been  accounted  harsh 
justice. 

February  7. — Wrote  six  leaves  to-day,  and  am  tired — 
that 's  all. 

February  8. — I  lost  much  time  to-day.  I  got  from  the 
Court  about  half-past  twelve,  therefore  might  have  reckoned 
on  four  hours,  or  three  at  least,  before  dinner.  But  I  had 
to  call  on  Dr.  Shortt  at  two,  which  made  me  lounge  till  that 
hour  came.  Then  I  missed  him,  and,  too  tired  to  return, 
went  to  see  the  exhibition,  where  Skene  was  hanging  up  the 


356  JOUKNAL.  [FEB. 

pictures,  and  would  not  let  me  in.  Then  to  the  Oil  Gas 
Company,  who  propose  to  send  up  counsel  to  support  their 
new  bill.  As  I  thought  the  choice  unadvisedly  made,  I 
fairly  opposed  the  mission,  which,  I  suppose,  will  give  much 
offence ;  but  I  have  no  notion  of  being  shamefaced  in  doing 
my  duty,  and  I  do  not  think  I  should  permit  forward  persons 
to  press  into  situations  for  which  their  vanity  alone  renders 
them  competent.  Had  many  proof-sheets  to  correct  in  the 
evening. 

February  9. — We  had  a  long  day  of  it  at  Court,  but  I 
whipped  you  off  half-a-dozen  of  letters,  for,  as  my  cases 
stood  last  on  the  roll,  I  could  do  what  I  liked  in  the  interim. 
This  carried  me  on  till  two  o'clock.  Called  on  Baron  Hume, 
and  found  him,  as  usual,  in  high  spirits,  notwithstanding  his 
late  illness.  Then  crept  home — my  rheumatism  much  better, 
though.  Corrected  lives  of  Lord  Somerville  and  the  King 
[George  III.] x  for  the  Prose  Works,  which  took  a  long  time ; 
but  I  had  the  whole  evening  to  myself,  as  Anne  dined  with 
the  Swintons,  and  went  to  a  ball  at  the  Justice-Clerk's. 
N.B. — It  is  the  first  and  only  ball  which  has  been  given  this 
season — a  sign  the  times  are  pinching. 

February  10. — I  got  a  present  of  Lord  Francis  Gower's 
printed  but  unpublished  Tale  of  the  Mill.2  It  is  a  fine  tale 
of  terror  in  itself,  and  very  happily  brought  out.  He  has 
certainly  a  true  taste  for  poetry.  I  do  not  know  why,  but 
from  my  childhood  I  have  seen  something  fearful,  or  melan- 
choly at  least,  about  a  mill.  Whether  I  had  been  frightened 
at  the  machinery  when  very  young,  of  which  I  think  I  have 
some  shadowy  recollection — whether  I  had  heard  the  stories 
of  the  miller  of  Thirlestane 3  and  similar  molendinar  trage- 
dies, I  cannot  tell ;  but  not  even  recollection  of  the  Lass  of 
Patie's  Mill,  or  the  Miller  of  Mansfield,  or  he  who  "  dwelt  on 

1  Biographical  Notices  had  been  2  Afterwards  included  in  The  Pil- 

sent  to  the  Weekly  Journal  in  1826,  grimageandotherPoems,'Lond.  1856. 

and  are  now  included  in  the  Miscell,  3  See  Craig  Brown's  Selkirkshire, 

Prose  Work*,  vol.  iv.  pp.  322-342.  vol.  i.  pp.  285-80 


1827.]  JOURNAL.  357 

the  river  Dee,"  have  ever  got  over  my  inclination  to  connect 
gloom  with  a  mill,  especially  when  sun  is  setting.  So  I 
entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  terror  with  which  Lord  Francis 
has  invested  his  haunted  spot.  I  dine  with  the  Solicitor 
to-day,  so  quoad  labour  'tis  a  blank.  But  then  to-morrow  is 
a  new  day. 

"  To-morrow  to  fresh  meads  and  pastures  new." l 

February  11. — Wrought  a  good  deal  in  the  morning,  and 
landed  Boney  at  Smolensk.  But  I  have  him  to  bring  off 
again ;  and,  moreover,  I  must  collate  the  authorities  on  the 
movements  of  the  secondary  armies  of  Witgenstein  and  the 
Admiral  with  the  break-tooth  name.  Dined  with  Lord 
Minto,  where  I  met  Thomson,  Cranstoun,  and  other  gay 
folks.  These  dinner  parties  narrow  my  working  hours ;  yet 
they  must  sometimes  be,  or  one  would  fall  out  of  the  line  of 
society,  and  go  to  leeward  entirely,  which  is  not  right  to 
venture.  This  is  the  high  time  for  parties  in  Edinburgh ; 
no  wonder  one  cannot  keep  clear. 

February  12. — I  was  obliged  to  read  instead  of  writing, 
and  the  infernal  Eussian  names,  which  everybody  spells  ad 
libitum,  makes  it  difficult  to  trace  the  operations  on  a  better 
map  than  mine.  I  called  to-day  on  Dr.  Shortt,  principal 
surgeon  at  Saint  Helena,  and  who  presided  at  the  opening 
of  Bonaparte's  body.  He  mentions  as  certain  the  false- 
hood of  a  number  of  the  assertions  concerning  his  usage, 
the  unhealthy  state  of  the  island,  and  so  forth.  I  have 
jotted  down  his  evidence  elsewhere.  I  could  not  write  when 
1  came  home.  Nervous  a  little,  I  think,  and  not  yet  up  to 
the  motions  of  Tchitchagoff,  as  I  must  be  before  I  can  write. 
Will  [Clerk]  and  Sir  A.  Ferguson  dine  here  to-day — the 
first  time  any  one  has  had  that  honour  for  long  enough, 
unless  at  Abbotsford.  The  good  Lord  Chief-Commissioner 
invited  himself,  and  I  asked  his  son,  Admiral  Adam.  Col. 
Ferguson  is  of  the  party. 

1  Milton's  Lycidas,  varied. 


358  JOUENAL.  [FEB. 

February  13. — The  dining  parties  come  thick,  and  inter- 
fere with  work  extremely.  I  am,  however,  beforehand  very 
far.  Yet,  as  James  B.  says — the  tortoise  comes  up  with  the 
hare.  So  Puss  must  make  a  new  start ;  but  not  this  week. 
Went  to  see  the  exhibition — certainly  a  good  one  for 
Scotland — and  less  trash  than  I  have  seen  at  Somerset- 
House  (begging  pardon  of  the  pockpuddings).  There  is  a 
beautiful  thing  by  Landseer — a  Highlander  and  two  stag- 
hounds  engaged  with  a  deer.  Very  spirited,  indeed.  I 
forgot  my  rheumatism,  and  could  have  wished  myself  of  the 
party.  There  were  many  fine  folks,  and  there  was  a 
collation,  chocolate,  and  so  forth.  We  dine  at  Sir  H. 
Jardine's,  with  Lord  Ch.-Com.,  Lord  Chief-Baron,  etc. 

February  14. — "Death's  gi'en  the  art  an  unco  devel."1 
Sir  George  Beaumont's  dead  ;  by  far  the  most  sensible  and 
pleasing  man  I  ever  knew ;  kind,  too,  in  his  nature,  and 
generous;  gentle  in  society,  and  of  those  mild  manners 
which  tend  to  soften  the  causticity  of  the  general  London 
[tone]  of  persiflage  and  personal  satire.  As  an  amateur, 
he  was  a  painter  of  the  very  highest  rank.  Though  I  know 
nothing  of  the  matter,  yet  I  should  hold  him  a  perfect  critic 
on  painting,  for  he  always  made  his  criticisms  intelligible, 
and  used  no  slang.  I  am  very  sorry,  as  much  as  is  in 
my  nature  to  be,  for  one  whom  I  could  see  but  seldom.  He 
was  the  great  friend  of  Wordsworth,  and  understood  his 
poetry,  which  is  a  rare  thing,  for  it  is  more  easy  to  see  his 
peculiarities  than  to  feel  his  great  merit,  or  follow  his  abstract 
ideas.  I  dined  to-day  at  Lord  Ch.-Commissioner's — Lord 
Minto,  and  Lord  Ch.-Baron,  also  Harden.  Little  done  to-day. 

February  15. — Eheumatism  returns  with  the  snow.  I 
had  thoughts  of  going  to  Abbotsford  on  Saturday,  but  if 
this  lasts,  it  will  not  do ;  and,  sooth  to  speak,  it  ought  not 
to  do ;  though  it  would  do  me  much  pleasure  if  it  would  do. 

1  "  Death  'B  gi'en  the  Lodge  an  unco  devel, 
Tain  Samson's  dead." 

Burns. — J.  G.  L. 


1827.]  JOURNAL.  359 

I  have  a  letter  from  Baron  Von  Goethe,1  which  I  must 
have  read  to  me ;  for  though  I  know  German,  I  have  forgot 
their  written  hand.  I  make  it  a  rule  seldom  to  read,  and 
never  to  answer,  foreign  letters  from  literary  folks.  It  leads 
to  nothing  but  the  battle-dore  and  shuttle-cock  intercourse 
of  compliments,  as  light  as  cork  and  feathers.  But  Goethe 
is  different,  and  a  wonderful  fellow,  the  Ariosto  at  once,  and 
almost  the  Voltaire  of  Germany.  "Who  could  have  told  me 
thirty  years  ago  I  should  correspond,  and  be  on  something  like 
an  equal  footing,  with  the  author  of  Goetz  ?  Ay,  and  who 
could  have  told  me  fifty  things  else  that  have  befallen  me  ?  2 

February  1 6. — R.  Still  snow ;  and,  alas  !  no  time  for 
work,  so  hard  am  I  fagged  by  the  Court  and  the  good 
company  of  Edinburgh.  I  almost  wish  my  rheumatics  were 
bad  enough  to  give  me  an  apology  for  staying  a  week  at 
home.  But  we  have  Sunday  and  Monday  clear.  If  not  better, 
I  will  cribb  off  Tuesday;  and  Wednesday  is  Teind  day.  We 
dined  to-day  with  Mr.  Borthwick,  younger  of  Crookston. 

February  1 7. — James  Ferguson  ill  of  the  rheumatism  in 
head  and  neck,  and  Hector  B.  Macdonald  in  neck  and 

For  letter  and  reply  see  Life,  This  I  observe  is  Bonaparte's 

voL  ix.  pp.  92,  98.  general  practice,  and  that  of 

*  Sir  Walter  at  this  date  returned  his  admirers.  Whenever  they  can 

the  valuable  MSS.  lent  him  by  charge  anything  upon  the  elements 

the  Duke  of  Wellington  in  Nov.  or  upon  accident,  he  and  they 

1826  (see  ante,  p.  306)  with  the  fol-  combine  in  denying  all  bravery  and 

loving  letter : —  all  wisdom,  to  their  enemies.  The 

•EDINBUBOH,  15th  February  1827.  conduct  of  Kutusow  on  more  than 

"  My  dear  Lord  Duke, — The  two  one  occasion  in  the  retreat  seems  to 

manuscripts  safely  packed  leave  have  been  singularly  cautious,  or 

tkis  by  post  to-day,  as  I  am  in-  rather  timorous.  For  it  is  im- 

formed  your  Grace's  franks  carry  possible  to  give  credit  to  the 

any  weight.  immense  superiority  claimed  by 

"I  have  been  reading  with  equal  Se"gur,  Beauchamp,  etc.,  for  the 

mstruction  and  pleasure  the  memoir  French  troops  over  the  Russians. 

MI  the  Russian  campaign,  which  Surely  they  were  the  same  Russians 

demonstrates  as  plainly  as  possible  who  had  fought  so  bravely  against 

that  the  French  writers  have  taken  superior  force,  and  how  should  the 

advantage  of  the  snow  to  cover  twentieth  part  of  the  French  army 

under  it  all  their  General's  blunders,  have  been  able  to  clear  their  way 

and  impute  to  it  all  their  losses,  without  cavalry  or  artillery  in  a 


360 


JOURNAL. 


[FEB. 


shoulders.  I  wonder,  as  Commodore  Trunnion  says,  what 
the  blackguard  hell's-baby  has  to  say  to  the  Clerks  of  Ses- 
sion.1 Went  to  the  Second  Division  to  assist  Hector.  N.B. 
— Don't  like  it  half  so  well  as  my  own,  for  the  speeches  are 
much  longer.  Home  at  dinner,  and  wrought  in  the  evening. 
February  18. — Very  cold  weather.  I  am  rather  glad  I 
am  not  in  the  country.  What  says  Dean  Swift — 

"When  frost  and  snow  come  both  together, 
Then  sit  by  the  fire  and  save  shoe  leather." 


great  measure  ?  and  it  seems  natural 
to  suppose  that  we  must  impute  to 
tardy  and  inactive  conduct  on  the 
part  of  their  General  what  we 
cannot  account  for  on  the  idea  of 
the  extremely  superior  valour  or 
discipline  claimed  for  the  French 
soldiers  by  their  country.  The 
snow  seems  to  have  become  serious 
on  the  6th  November,  when 
Napoleon  was  within  two  marches 
of  Smolensk,  which  he  soon  after 
reached,  and  by  that  tune  it  appears 
to  me  that  his  army  was  already 
mouldered  away  from  100,000  men 
who  left  Moscow,  to  about  35,000 
only,  so  that  his  great  loss  was 
incurred  before  the  snow  began. 

"I  am  afraid  your  Grace  has  done 
me  an  unparalleled  injury  in  one 
respect,  that  the  clearness,  justice, 
and  precision  of  your  Grace's  reason- 
ing puts  me  out  of  all  patience  with 
my  own  attempts.  I  dare  hardly 
hope  in  this  increase  of  business  for 
a  note  or  two  on  Waterloo  ;  but  if 
your  Grace  had  any,  however 
hasty,  which  could  be  copied  by  a 
secretary,  the  debt  would  be  never 
to  be  forgotten. 

"  I  am  going  to  mention  a  circum- 
stance, which  I  do  with  great  appre- 
hension, lest  I  should  be  thought  to 
intrude  upon  your  Grace's  goodness. 
It  respects  a  youth,  the  son  of  one 
of  my  most  intimate  friends,  a 


gentleman  of  good  family  and 
fortune,  who  is  extremely  desirous  of 
being  admitted  a  cadet  of  artillery. 
His  father  is  the  best  draughtsman 
in  Scotland,  and  the  lad"  himself 
shows  a  great  deal  of  talent  both  in 
science  and  the  ordinary  branches  of 
learning.  I  enclose  a  note  of  the 
youth's  age,  studies,  and  progress, 
in  case  your  Grace  might  tlink  it 
possible  to  place  on  your  list  for  the 
Engineer  service  the  name  of  a  poor 
Scots  Hidalgo  ;  your  Grace  knows 
Scotland  is  a  breeding  not  a  feeding 
country,  and  we  must  send  our  sons 
abroad,  as  we  send  our  black  cattle 
to  England ;  and,  as  old  Lady  Canp- 
bell  of  Ardkinglas  proposed  to  dis- 
pose of  her  nine  sons,  we  have!  a 
strong  tendency  to  put  our  young 
folks  '  a'  to  the  sword. ' 

"I  have  too  long  detained  you,  nay 
Lord  Duke,  from  the  many  high 
occupations  which  have  been  re- 
doubled upon  your  Grace's  heac, 
and  beg  your  Grace  to  believe  me, 
with  an  unusually  deep  sense  of 
respect  and  obligation,  my  deal 
Lord  Duke,  your  Grace's  much 
honoured  and  grateful,  humble 
servant,  WALTER  SCOTT.  "  \ 

—  Wellington's  Despatches,  etc. \ 
(Continuation),  voL  iii.  pp.  590-1.  I 
London,  8vo,  1868. 

1  Smollett's  Peregrine Pickle,vol.i. 
cap.  13. 


1827.]  JOURNAL.  361 

Wrought  all  morning  and  finished  five  pages.  Missie  dined 
with  us. 

February  1 9. — As  well  I  give  up  Abbotsf  ord,  for  Hamilton 
is  laid  up  with  the  gout.  The  snow,  too,  continues,  with  a 
hard  frost.  I  have  seen  the  day  I  would  have  liked  it  all 
the  better.  I  read  and  wrote  at  the  bitter  account  of  the 
French  retreat  from  Moscow,  in  1812,  till  the  little  room 
and  coal  fire  seemed  snug  by  comparison.  I  felt  cold  in 
its  rigour  in  my  childhood  and  boyhood,  but  not  since. 
In  youth  and  advanced  life  we  get  less  sensible  to  it,  but  I 
remember  thinking  it  worse  than  hunger.  Uninterrupted 
to-day,  and  did  eight  leaves.1 

February  20. — At  Court,  and  waited  to  see  the  poisoning 
woman.  She  is  clearly  guilty,  but  as  one  or  two  witnesses 
said  the  poor  wench  hinted  an  intention  to  poison  herself, 
the  jury  gave  that  bastard  verdict,  Not  proven.  I  hate  that 
Caledonian  medium  quid.  One  who  is  not  proven  guilty  is 
innocent  in  the  eye  of  law.  It  was  a  face  to  do  or  die,  or 
perhaps  to  do  to  die.  Thin  features,  which  had  been  hand- 
some, a  flashing  eye,  an  acute  and  aquiline  nose,  lips  much 
marked,  as  arguing  decision,  and,  I  think,  bad  temper — they 
were  thin,  and  habitually  compressed,  rather  turned  down 
at  the  corners,  as  one  of  a  rather  melancholy  disposition. 
There  was  an  awful  crowd ;  but,  sitting  within  the  bar,  I  had 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  much  at  my  ease;  the  constables 
knocking  the  other  folks  about,  which  was  of  course  very 
entertaining.2 

Lord  Liverpool  is  ill  of  an  apoplexy.  I  am  sorry  for  it. 
He  will  be  missed.  Who  will  be  got  for  Premier?  Not 

1  One  page  of  his  MS.  answers  sitting  within  the  bar  looking  at 
to  four  or  five  of  the  close  printed  her.     As  we  were  moving  out,  Sir 
pages  of  the  original  edition  of  his  Walter's  remark  upon  the  acquittal 
Bonaparte. — J.  G.  L.  was,   'Well,  sirs,  all  I  can  say  is 

2  Lord  Cockburn  says : — "Scott's  that  if  that  woman  was  my  wife 
description  of  the  woman  is  very  I  should  take  good  care  to  be  my 
correct ;  she  was  like  a  vindictive  own  cook. ' " — Circuit  Journeys,  8vo, 
masculine  witch.     I  remember  him  Edinburgh,  1888,  p.  12. 


362  JOURNAL.  [FEB. 

B certainly  ;l  he  wants  weight.  If  Peel  would  consent 

to  be  made  a  peer,  he  would  do  better;  but  I  doubt  his 
ambition  will  prefer  the  House  of  Commons.  Wrought  a 
a  good  deal. 

February  21. — Being  the  vacant  Wednesday  I  wrote  all 
the  morning.  Had  an  answer  from  D.  of  W.,  unsuccessful 
in  getting  young  Skene  put  upon  the  engineer  list;  he  is 
too  old.  Went  out  at  two  with  Anne,  and  visited  the  ex- 
hibition ;  also  called  on  the  Mansfield  family  and  on  Sydney 
Smith.  Jeffrey  unwell  from  pleading  so  long  and  late  for 
the  poisoning  woman.  He  has  saved  her  throat  and  taken 
a  quinsey  in  his  own.  Adam  Ferguson  has  had  a  fall  with 
his  horse. 

February  22. — Was  at  Court  till  two,  then  lounged  till 
Will  Murray2  came  to  speak  about  a  dinner  for  the  Theatrical 
Fund,  in  order  to  make  some  arrangements.  There  are  300 
tickets  given  out.3  I  fear  it  will  be  uncomfortable;  and 
whatever  the  stoics  may  say,  a  bad  dinner  throws  cold 
water  on  the  charity.  I  have  agreed  to  preside,  a  situation 
in  which  I  have  been  rather  felicitous,  not  by  much 
superiority  of  wit  or  wisdom,  far  less  of  eloquence ;  but  by 
two  or  three  simple  rules  which  I  put  down  here  for  the 
benefit  of  posterity. 

1st.  Always  hurry  the  bottle  round  for  five  or  six  rounds 
without  prosing  yourself  or  permitting  others  to  prose.  A 

1  This  can  scarcely  be  taken  to  re-      of  the  Theatre  Royal,  Edinburgh, 
fer  to  Brougham,  though  at  the  time      This   excellent  actor  retired  from 

"Canning  calls  Brougham  his  learned  the  sta#e  ^^  a  competency,   and 

Friend.  spent  the  last  years  of  his  life  in 

'  My  honours  come  and  share  'em.  St.  Andrews,  where  he  died  in  March 

Reformers  their  assistance  give  1852   aged  61 

To  countenance  old  Sarum. "  ,  ^,  .  ' .,       , .  ,  .  , 

AnnusMiraMlis.  T1"S  WaS  the   dlnner  at  whlch 

the  veil  was  publicly  withdrawn 

It  may,  however,   stand  for  Lord  from  the  authorship  of  Waverhy ;  it 

Bathurst,  who  became  President  of  took  place  on  Friday,  23d  February 

the  Council  shortly  afterwards  in  1827,  and  a  full  account  of  the  pro- 

Wellington's  Administration.  ceedings  is  given  in  the  Life,  vol.  ix. 

2  Mr.  W.   H.   Murray,  Manager  pp.  79-84. 


1827.]  JOUKNAL  363 

slight  fillip  of  wine  inclines  people  to  be  pleased,  and  removes 
the  nervousness  which  prevents  men  from  speaking — disposes 
them,  in  short,  to  be  amusing  and  to  be  amused. 

2d.  Push  on,  keep  moving,  as  Punch  says.  Do  not  think 
of  saying  fine  things — nobody  cares  for  them  any  more  than 
for  fine  music,  which  is  often  too  liberally  bestowed  on  such 
occasions.  Speak  at  all  ventures,  and  attempt  the  mot  pour 
rire.  You  will  find  people  satisfied  with  wonderfully  in- 
different jokes  if  you  can  but  hit  the  taste  of  the  company, 
which  depends  much  on  its  character.  Even  a  very  high 
party,  primed  with  all  the  cold  irony  and  non  est  tanti 
feelings,  or  no  feelings,  of  fashionable  folks,  may  be  stormed 
by  a  jovial,  rough,  round,  and  ready  preses.  Choose  your 
texts  with  discretion,  the  sermon  may  be  as  you  like.  If  a 
drunkard  or  an  ass  breaks  in  with  anything  out  of  joint,  if 
you  can  parry  it  with  a  jest,  good  and  well — if  not,  do  not 
exert  your  serious  authority,  unless  it  is  something  very  bad. 
The  authority  even  of  a  chairman  ought  to  be  very  cautiously 
exercised.  With  patience  you  will  have  the  support  of 
every  one. 

When  you  have  drunk  a  few  glasses  to  play  the  good 
fellow,  and  banish  modesty  if  you  are  unlucky  enough  to 
have  such  a  troublesome  companion,  then  beware  of  the  cup 
too  much.  Nothing  is  so  ridiculous  as  a  drunken  preses. 

Lastly.  Always  speak  short,  and  Skeoch  dock  na  skiel — 
cut  a  tale  with  a  drink. 

"  This  is  the  purpose  and  intent 
Of  gude  Schir  Walter's  testament." 1 

We  dined  to-day  at  Mrs.  Dundas  of  Arniston,  Dowager. 

February  24. — I  carried  my  own  instructions  into  effect 
the  best  I  could,  and  if  our  jests  were  not  good,  our  laugh 
was  abundant.  I  think  I  will  hardly  take  the  chair  again 
when  the  company  is  so  miscellaneous;  though  they  all 

1  Sir  Walter  parodies  the  con-     "Maxims  or  Political  Testament." — 
elusion  of  King  Eobert  the  Bruce's     SeeHailes'.4nna?«,A.D.1311. — J.G.L. 


364  JOURNAL.  [FEB. 

behaved  perfectly  well.  Meadowbank  taxed  me  with  the 
novels,  and  to  end  that  farce  at  once  I  pleaded  guilty,  so 
that  splore  is  ended.  As  to  the  collection,  it  was  much  cry 
and  little  woo',  as  the  deil  said  when  he  shore  the  sow.  Only 
£280  from.  300  people,  but  many  were  to  send  money 
to-morrow.  They  did  not  open  books,  which  was  impolitic, 
but  circulated  a  box,  where  people  might  put  in  what  they 
pleased — and  some  gave  shillings,  which  gives  but  a  poor 
idea  of  the  company.  Yet  there  were  many  respectable 
people  and  handsome  donations.  But  this  fashion  of  not 
letting  your  right  hand  see  what  your  left  hand  doeth  is 
no  good  mode  of  raising  a  round  sum.  Your  penny-pig 
collections  don't  succeed.  I  got  away  at  ten  at  night.  The 
performers  performed  very  like  gentlemen,  especially  Will 
Murray.  They  attended  as  stewards  with  white  rods,  and 
never  thought  of  sitting  down  till  after  dinner,  taking  care 
that  the  company  was  attended  to. 

February  25. — Very  bad  report  of  the  speeches  in  the 
papers.  We  dined  at  Jeffrey's  with  Sydney  Smith — funny 
and  good-natured  as  usual.  One  of  his  daughters  is  very 
pretty  indeed ;  both  are  well-mannered,  agreeable,  and  sing 
well.  The  party  was  pleasant. 

February  26. — At  home,  and  settled  to  work ;  but  I  know 
not  why  I  was  out  of  spirits — quite  Laird  of  Humdudgeon, 
and  did  all  J  could  to  shake  it  off,  and  could  not.  James 
Ballantyne  dined  with  me. 

February  27. — Humdudgeonish  still;  hang  it,  what  fools 
we  are!  I  worked,  but  coldly  and  ill.  Yet  something  is 
done.  I  wonder  if  other  people  have  these  strange  alter- 
nations of  industry  and  incapacity.  I  am  sure  I  do  not 
indulge  myself  in  fancies,  but  it  is  accompanied  with  great 
drowsiness — bile,  I  suppose,  and  terribly  jaded  spirits.  I 
received  to-day  Dr.  Shortt  and  Major  Crocket,  who  was 
orderly-officer  on  Boney  at  the  time  of  his  death. 

February  28. — Sir  Adam  breakfasted.     One  of  the  few 


1827.]  JOURNAL.  365 

old  friends  left  out  of  the  number  of  my  youthful  companions. 
In  youth  we  have  many  companions,  few  friends  perhaps ;  in 
age  companionship  is  ended,  except  rarely,  and  by  appoint- 
ment. Old  men,  by  a  kind  of  instinct,  seek  younger  com- 
panions who  listen  to  their  stories,  honour  their  grey  hairs 
while  present,  and  mimic  and  laugh  at  them  when  their 
backs  are  turned.  At  least  that  was  the  way  in  our  day, 
and  I  warrant  our  chicks  of  the  present  day  crow  to  the 
same  tune.  Of  all  the  friends  that  I  have  left  I  have  none 
who  has  any  decided  attachment  to  literature.  So  either  I 
must  talk  on  that  subject  to  young  people — in  other  words, 
turn  proser,  or  I  must  turn  tea-table  talker  and  converse 
with  ladies.  I  am  too  old  and  too  proud  for  either  character, 
so  I  '11  live  alone  and  be  contented.  Lockhart's  departure  for 
London  was  a  loss  to  me  in  this  way.  Came  home  late  from 
the  Court,  but  worked  tightly  in  the  evening.  I  think  dis- 
continuing smoking,  as  I  have  done  for  these  two  months 
past,  leaves  me  less  muzzy  after  dinner.  At  any  rate,  it 
breaks  a  custom — I  despise  custom. 


MARCH. 

March  1 — At  Court  until  two — wrote  letters  under  cover 
of  the  lawyers'  long  speeches,  so  paid  up  some  of  my  corre- 
spondents, which  I  seldom  do  upon  any  other  occasion.  I 
sometimes  let  letters  lie  for  days  unopened,  as  if  that  would 
postpone  the  necessity  of  answering  them.  Here  I  am  at 
home,  and  to  work  we  go — not  for  the  first  time  to-day,  for 
I  wrought  hard  before  breakfast.  So  glides  away  Thursday 
1st.  By  the  by,  it  is  the  anniversary  of  Bos  worth  Field. 
In  former  days  Richard  III.  was  always  acted  at  London  on 
this  day ;  now  the  custom,  I  fancy,  is  disused.  Walpole's 
Historic  Doubts  threw  a  mist  about  this  reign.  It  is  very 
odd  to  see  how  his  mind  dwells  upon  it  at  first  as  the  mere 
sport  of  imagination,  till  at  length  they  become  such  Delilahs 
of  his  imagination  that  he  deems  it  far  worse  than  infidelity 
to  doubt  his  Doubts.  After  all,  the  popular  tradition  is  so 
very  strong  and  pointed  concerning  the  character  of  Richard, 
that  it  is  I  think  in  vain  to  doubt  the  general  truth  of  the 
outline.  Shakespeare,  we  may  be  sure,  wrote  his  drama  in 
the  tone  that  was  to  suit  the  popular  belief,  although  where 
that  did  Richard  wrong,  his  powerful  scene  was  sure  to 
augment  the  impression.  There  was  an  action  and  a  reaction. 

March  2. — Clerk  walked  home  with  me  from  the  Court. 
I  was  scarce  able  to  keep  up  with  him  ;  could  once  have  done 
it  well  enough.  Funny  thing  at  the  Theatre.  Among  the 
discourse  in  "  High  Life  below  Stairs," l  one  of  the  ladies' 
ladies  asks  who  wrote  Shakespeare.  One  says,  "  Ben  Jonson," 
another,  "  Finis."  "  No,"  said  Will  Murray, "  it  is  Sir  Walter 
Scott ;  he  confessed  it  at  a  public  meeting  the  other  day." 

1  See  Townley'a  Farce. 


366 


1827.]  JOUKNAL.  367 

March  3. — Very  severe  weather,  came  home  covered 
with  snow.  White  as  a  frosted-plum-cake,  by  jingo!  No 
matter ;  I  am  not  sorry  to  find  I  can  stand  a  brush  of  weather 
yet ;  I  like  to  see  Arthur's  Seat  and  the  stern  old  Castle  with 
their  white  watch-cloaks  on.  But,  as  Byron  said  to  Moore, 
"  d — n  it,  Tom,  don't  be  poetical"  I  settled  to  Boney,  and 
wrote  right  long  and  well 

March  4. — I  sat  in  by  the  chimney-neuk  with  no  chance 
of  interruption,  and  "  f eagued  it  away."  Sir  Adam  came,  and 
had  half  an  hour's  chat  and  laugh.  My  jaws  ought  to  be 
sore,  if  the  unwontedness  of  the  motion  could  do  it.  But  I 
have  little  to  laugh  at  but  myself,  and  my  own  bizarreries 
are  more  like  to  make  me  cry.  Wrought  hard,  though — 
there 's  sense  in  that. 

March  5. — Our  young  men  of  first  fashion,  in  whom 
tranquillity  is  the  prime  merit,  a  sort  of  quietism  of  foppery, 
if  one  can  use  the  expression,  have  one  capital  name  for  a 
fellow  that  outrts  and  outroars  the  fashion,  a  sort  of  high- 
buck  as  they  were  called  in  my  days.  They  hold  him  a 
vulgarian,  and  call  him  a  tiger.  Mr.  Gibson  came  in,  and 
we  talked  over  my  affairs  ;  very  little  to  the  purpose  I  doubt. 
Dined  at  home  with  Anne  as  usual,  and  despatched  half-a- 
dozen  Selkirk  processes ;  among  others  one  which  savours  of 
Hamesucken.1  I  think  to-day  I  have  finished  a  quarter  of 
vol.  viii.,  and  last.  Shall  I  be  happy  when  it  is  done  ? — 
Umph  !  I  think  not. 

March  6. — A  long  seat  at  Court,  and  an  early  dinner,  as 
we  went  to  the  play.  John  Kemble's  brother  acted  Bene- 
dick. He  is  a  fine-looking  man,  and  a  good  actor,  but  not 
superior.  He  reminds  you  eternally  that  he  is  acting ;  and 
he  had  got,  as  the  devil  directed  it,  hold  of  my  favourite 
Benedick,  for  which  he  has  no  power.  He  had  not  the 
slightest  idea  of  the  part,  particularly  of  the  manner  in  which 

1  Hamesucken.  — The  crime  of  beating  or  assaulting  a  person  in  his  own 
house.     A  Scotch  law  term. 


368  JOURNAL.  [MARCH 

Benedick  should  conduct  himself  in  the  quarrelling  scene 
with  the  Prince  and  Claudio,  in  which  his  character  rises 
almost  to  the  dignity  of  tragedy.  The  laying  aside  his  light 
and  fantastic  humour,  and  showing  himself  the  man  of 
feeling  and  honour,  was  finely  marked  of  yore  by  old  Tom 
King.1  I  remember  particularly  the  high  strain  of  grave 
moral  feeling  which  he  threw  upon  the  words — "  in  a  false 
quarrel  there  is  no  true  valour" — which,  spoken  as  he  did, 
checked  the  very  brutal  levity  of  the  Prince  and  Claudio. 
There  were  two  farces ;  one  I  wished  to  see,  and  that  being 
the  last,  was  obliged  to  tarry  for  it.  Perhaps  the  headache 
I  contracted  made  me  a  severe  critic  on  Cramond  Brig,2 
a  little  piece  ascribed  to  Lockhart.  Perhaps  I  am  unjust, 
but  I  cannot  think  it  his ; 3  there  are  so  few  good  things 
in  it,  and  so  much  prosing  transferred  from  that  mine  of 
marrowless  morality  called  the  Miller  of  Mansfield*  Yet 
it  pleases. 

March  7. — We  are  kept  working  hard  during  the  expir- 
ing days  of  the  Session,  but  this  being  a  blank  day  I  wrote 
hard  till  dressing  time,  when  I  went  to  Will  Clerk's  to 
dinner.  As  a  bachelor,  and  keeping  a  small  establishment, 
he  does  not  do  these  things  often,  but  they  are  propor- 
tionally pleasant  when  they  come  round.  He  had  trusted 
Sir  Adam  to  bespeak  his  dinner,  who  did  it  con  a/more ;  so  we 
had  excellent  cheer,  and  the  wines  were  various  and  capital. 
As  I  before  hinted,  it  is  not  every  day  that  M'Nab  5  mounts 
on  horseback,  and  so  our  landlord  had  a  little  of  that  solici- 
tude that  the  party  should  go  off  well,  which  is  very  flatter- 
ing to  the  guests.  We  had  a  very  pleasant  evening.  The 

1  King  had  retired  from  the  3  Marginal  Note  in  Original  MSS. 

stage  in  1801.  He  died  four  years  "Ineversawit — notmine. — J.G.L." 
later.  4  By  Dodsley. 

"  Cramond  Brig  is  said  to  have  *  That  singular  personage,  the 

been  written  by  Mr.  W.  H.  late  M  'Nab  of  that  ilk,  spent  his  life 

Murray,  the  manager  of  the  Theatre,  almost  entirely  in  a  district  where 

and  is  still  occasionally  acted  in  a  boat  was  the  usual  conveyance. — 

Edinburgh.  J.  o.  L. 


1827.]  JOUKNAL.  369 

Chief-Commissioner  was  there,  Admiral  Adam,  Jo.  Murray, 
and  Thomson,  etc.  etc.  Sir  Adam  predominating  at  the 
head,  and  dancing  what  he  calls  his  "merry  andrada"  in 
great  style.  In  short,  we  really  laughed,  and  real  laughter  is 
a  thing  as  rare  as  real  tears.  I  must  say,  too,  there  was  a 
heart, — a  kindly  feeling  prevailed  over  the  party.  Can 
London  give  such  a  dinner  ?  It  may,  but  I  never  saw  one ; 
they  are  too  cold  and  critical  to  be  so  easily  pleased.  In 
the  evening  I  went  with  some  others  to  see  the  exhibition 
lit  up  for  a  promenade,  where  there  were  all  the  fashion- 
able folks  about  town ;  the  appearance  of  the  rooms  was 
very  gay  indeed. 

March  8. — It  snowed  all  night,  which  must  render  the 
roads  impassable,  and  will  detain  me  here  till  Monday. 
Hard  work  at  Court,  as  Hammie  is  done  up  with  the  gout. 
We  dine  with  Lord  Corehouse — that 's  not  true  by  the  by,  for 
I  have  mistaken  the  day.  It's  to-morrow  we  dine  there. 
Wrought,  but  not  too  hard. 

March  9. — An  idle  morning.  Dalgleish  being  set  to 
pack  my  books.  Wrote  notes  upon  a  Mr.  Kinloch's  Collec- 
tion of  Scottish  Ballads,1  which  I  communicated  to  the 
young  author  in  the  Court  this  present  morning.  We  were 
detained  till  half-past  three  o'clock,  so  when  I  came  home  I 
was  fatigued  and  slept.  I  walk  slow,  heavily,  and  with  pain ; 
but  perhaps  the  good  weather  may  banish  the  Fiend  of  the 
joints.  At  any  rate,  impatience  will  do  nae  good  at  a',  man. 
Letter  from  Charles  for  £50.  Silver  and  gold  have  I  none ; 
but  that  which  I  have  I  will  give  unto  him.  We  dined  at 
the  Cranstouns, — I  beg  his  pardon,  Lord  Corehouse ; 
Ferguson,  Thomson,  Will  Clerk,  etc.,  were  there,  also  the 
Smiths  and  John  Murray,  so  we  had  a  pleasant  evening. 

March  10. — The  business  at  the  Court  was  not  so  heavy 
as  I  have  seen  it  the  last  day  of  the  Session,  yet  sharp 

1  Ancient  Scottish  Ballads,  recovered  from  tradition,  with  notes,  etc., 
by  George  R.  Kinloch,  8vo,  London,  1827. 

2     A 


370  JOURNAL.  [MARCH 

enough.  About  three  o'clock  I  got  to  a  meeting  of  the 
Bannatyne  Club.  I  hope  this  institution  will  be  really 
useful  and  creditable.  Thomson  is  superintending  a  capital 
edition  of  Sir  James  Melville's  Memoirs.1  It  is  brave  to  see 
how  he  wags  his  Scots  tongue,  and  what  a  difference  there 
is  in  the  force  and  firmness  of  the  language,  compared  to 
the  mincing  English  edition  in  which  he  has  hitherto  been 
alone  known.  Nothing  to-day  but  correcting  proofs ; 
Anne  went  to  the  play,  I  remained  at  home. 

March  11. — All  my  books  packed  this  morning,  and  this 
and  to-morrow  will  be  blank  days,  or  nearly  such ;  but  I  am 
far  ahead  of  the  printer,  who  is  not  done  with  vol.  vii., 
while  I  am  deep  in  volume  viii.  I  hate  packing ;  but  my 
servants  never  pack  books  quite  to  please  me.  James 
Ballantyne  dined  with  us.  He  kept  up  my  heart  about 
Bonaparte,  which  sometimes  flags ;  and  he  is  such  a  grumbler 
that  I  think  I  may  trust  him  when  he  is  favourable.  There 
must  be  sad  inaccuracies,  some  which  might  certainly  have 
been  prevented  by  care;  but  as  the  Lazaroni  used  to  say, 
"  Did  you  but  know  how  lazy  I  am ! " 

[Abbotsford^  March  12. — Away  we  set,  and  came  safely 
to  Abbotsford  amid  all  the  dulness  of  a  great  thaw,  which 
has  set  the  rivers  a-streaming  in  full  tide.  The  wind  is 
wintry,  but  for  my  part 

"  I  like  this  rocking  of  the  battlements."  - 

I  was  received  by  old  Tom  and  the  dogs,  with  the  unso- 
phisticated feelings  of  goodwill.  I  have  been  trying  to 
read  a  new  novel  which  I  have  heard  praised.  It  is  called 
Almacks,  and  the  author  has  so  well  succeeded  in  describing 
the  cold  selfish  fopperies  of  the  time,  that  the  copy  is  almost 
as  "dull  as  the  original.  I  think  I  will  take  up  my 
bundle  of  Sheriff-Court  processes  instead  of  Almacks,  as 
the  more  entertaining  avocation  of  the  two. 

1  Issued  by   the    Club,   June  4,          2  Zanga  in    TJie  Revenge,  Act  I. 
1827.  Sc.  1.— J.  o.  L. 


1827.]  JOURNAL.  371 

March  13. — Before  breakfast,  prepared  and  forwarded 
the  processes  to  Selkirk.  As  I  had  the  loan  of  £250  at  March 
from  Cadell  I  am  now  verging  on  to  the  £500  which  he 
promised  to  allow  me  in  advance  on  second  series  Canongate 
Chronicles.  I  do  not  like  this,  but  unless  I  review  or  write 
to  some  other  purpose,  what  else  can  I  do  ?  My  own  expenses 
are  as  limited  as  possible,  but  my  house  expenses  are  con- 
siderable, and  every  now  and  then  starts  up  something  of 
old  scores  which  I  cannot  turn  over  to  Mr.  Gibson  and  his 
co-trustees.  Well — time  and  the  hour — money  is  the 
smallest  consideration. 

Had  a  pleasant  walk  to  the  thicket,  though  my  ideas 
were  olla-podrida-ish,  curiously  checkered  between  pleasure 
and  melancholy.  I  have  cause  enough  for  both  humours, 
God  knows.  I  expect  this  will  not  be  a  day  of  work  but  of 
idleness,  for  my  books  are  not  come.  Would  to  God  I  could 
make  it  light  thoughtless  idleness,  such  as  I  used  to  have 
when  the  silly  smart  fancies  ran  in  my  brain  like  the 
bubbles  in  a  glass  of  champagne, — as  brilliant  to  my  think- 
ing, as  intoxicating  as  evanescent.  But  the  wine  is  some- 
what on  the  lees.  Perhaps  it  was  but  indifferent  cider 
after  all.  Yet  I  am  happy  in  this  place,  where  everything 
looks  friendly,  from  old  Tom  to  young  Nym.1  After  all,  he 
has  little  to  complain  of  who  has  left  so  many  things  that 
like  him. 

March  14. — All  yesterday  spent  in  putting  to  rights 
books,  and  so  forth.  Not  a  word  written  except  interlocutors. 
But  this  won't  do.  I  have  tow  on  the  rock,  and  it  must  be 
spun  off.  Let  us  see  our  present  undertakings.  1.  Napoleon. 

2.  Review  Home,  Cranbourne  Chase,2  and  the  Mysteries. 

3.  Something  for  that  poor  faineant  Gillies.     4.  Essay  on 


1  Nimrod,  a  staghound. — j.  G.  L.  Sir  Walter  never  redeemed  his  pro- 

2  Anecdotes  of  Cranbourne  Chase,  mise  to  make  it  the  subject  of  an 
etc.,  by  Chafin.    8vo,  London,  1818.  article  in  the  Quarterly  Review." — 
Mr.   Lockhart  says,   "  I  am  sorry  See  Life,  vol.  vii.  pp.  43-44. 


372  JOURNAL.  [MARCH 

Ballad  and  Song.  5.  Something  on  the  modern  state  of 
France.  These  two  last  for  the  Prose  Works.  But  they  may 

" do  a  little  more, 

And  produce  a  little  ore." 

Come,  we  must  up  and  be  doing.  There  is  a  rare  scud 
without,  which  says,  "Go  spin,  you  jade,  go  spin."  I 
loitered  on,  and  might  have  answered, 

"  My  spinning-wheel  is  auld  and  stiff." 

Smoked  a  brace  of  cigars  after  dinner  as  a  sedative.  This 
is  the  first  time  I  have  smoked  these  two  months.  I  was 
afraid  the  custom  would  master  me.  Went  to  work  in  the 
afternoon,  and  reviewed  for  Lockhart  Mackenzie's  edition  of 
Home's  Works.1  Proceeded  as  far  as  the  eighth  page. 

March  1 5. — Kept  still  at  the  review  till  two  o'clock ;  not 
that  there  is  any  hurry,  but  because  I  should  lose  my  ideas, 
which  are  not  worth  preserving.  Went  on  therefore.  I 
drove  over  to  Huntly  Burn  with  Anne,  then  walked  through 
the  plantations,  with  Tom's  help  to  pull  me  through  the 
snow-wreaths.  Returned  in  a  glow  of  heat  and  spirits. 
Corrected  proof-sheets  in  the  evening. 

March  16. — 

"  A  trifling  day  we  have  had  here, 
Begun  with  trifle  and  ended." 

But  I  hope  no  otherwise  so  ended  than  to  meet  the  rubrick 
of  the  ballad,  for  it  is  but  three  o'clock.  In  the  morning  I 
was  I'homme  gui  cherche — everything  fell  aside, — the  very 
pens  absconded,  and  crept  in  among  a  pack  of  letters  and 
trumpery,  where  I  had  the  devil's  work  finding  them.  Thus 
the  time  before  breakfast  was  idled,  or  rather  fidgeted,  away. 
Afterwards  it  was  rather  worse.  I  had  settled  to  finish  the 
review,  when,  behold,  as  I  am  apt  to  do  at  a  set  task,  I 
jibb'd,  and  my  thoughts  would  rather  have  gone  with 
Waterloo.  So  I  dawdled,  as  the  women  say,  with  both,  now 
writing  a  page  or  two  of  the  review,  now  reading  a  few 

1  The  article  appeared  in   the  Number  for  June  1827,  and  is  now 
included  in  the  Prose  Misc.  Works,  vol.  xix.  pp.  283-367. 


1827.]  JOUKNAL.  373 

pages  of  the  Battle  of  Waterloo  by  Captain  Pringle,  a 
manuscript  which  is  excellently  written.1  Well,  I  will  find 
the  advantage  of  it  by  and  by.  So  now  I  will  try  to  finish 
this  accursed  review,  for  there  is  nothing  to  prevent  me, 
save  the  untractable  character  that  hates  to  work  on  com- 
pulsion, whether  of  individuals  or  circumstances. 

March  1 7. — I  wrought  away  at  the  review  and  nearly 
finished  it.  Was  interrupted,  however,  by  a  note  from 
Ballantyne,  demanding  copy,  which  brought  me  back  from 
Home  and  Mackenzie  to  Boney.  I  had  my  walk  as  usual, 
and  worked  nevertheless  very  fairly.  Corrected  proofs. 

March  18. — Took  up  Boney  again.  I  am  now  at  writing, 
as  I  used  to  be  at  riding,  slow,  heavy,  and  awkward  at 
mounting,  but  when  I  did  get  fixed  in  my  saddle,  could 
screed  away  with  any  one.  I  have  got  six  pages  ready  for 
my  learned  Theban  2  to-morrow  morning.  William  Laidlaw 
and  his  brother  George  dined  with  me,  but  I  wrote  in  the 
evening  all  the  same. 

March  19. — Set  about  my  labours,  but  enter  Captain 
John  Ferguson  from  the  Spanish  Main,  where  he  has  been 
for  three  years.  The  honest  tar  sat  about  two  hours,  and  I 
was  heartily  glad  to  see  him  again.  I  had  a  general  sketch 
of  his  adventures,  which  we  will  hear  more  in  detail  when 
we  can  meet  at  kail-time.  Notwithstanding  this  inter- 
ruption I  have  pushed  far  into  the  seventh  page.  Well 
done  for  one  day.  Twenty  days  should  finish  me  at  this 
rate,  and  I  read  hard  too.  But  allowance  must  be  made  for 
interruptions. 

March  20. — To-day  worked  till  twelve  o'clock,  then 
went  with  Anne  on  a  visit  of  condolence  to  Mrs.  Pringle 
of  Yair  and  her  family.  Mr.  Pringle  was  the  friend  both  of 
my  father  and  grandfather ;  the  acquaintance  of  our  families 
is  at  least  a  century  old. 

1  See  Captain  John  Pringle's  remarks  on  the  campaign  of  1815  in  App. 
to  Scott's  Napoleon,  vol.  ix.  pp.  115-160.  2  Lear,  Act  in.  Sc.  4. 


374  JOUKNAL.  [ 

March  21. — Wrote  till  twelve,  then  out  upon  the  heights 
though  the  day  was  stormy,  and  faced  the  gale  bravely. 
Tom  Purdie  was  not  with   me.     He  would  have   obliged 
me  to  keep  the  sheltered  ground.     But,  I  don't  know — 
"  Even  in  our  ashes  live  our  wonted  fires." 

There  is  a  touch  of  the  old  spirit  in  me  yet  that  bids 
me  brave  the  tempest, — the  spirit  that,  in  spite  of  manifold 
infirmities,  made  me  a  roaring  boy  in  my  youth,  a  desperate 
climber,  a  bold  rider,  a  deep  drinker,  and  a  stout  player 
at  single-stick,  of  all  which  valuable  qualities  there  are  now 
but  slender  remains.  I  worked  hard  when  I  came  in,  and 
finished  five  pages. 

March  2%. — Yesterday  I  wrote  to  James  Ballantyne, 
acquiescing  in  his  urgent  request  to  extend  the  two  last 
volumes  to  about  600  each.  I  believe  it  will  be  no  more 
than  necessary  after  all,  but  makes  one  feel  like  a  dog  in  a 
wheel,  always  moving  and  never  advancing. 

March  23. — "When  I  was  a  child,  and  indeed  for  some 
years  after,  my  amusement  was  in  supposing  to  myself  a  set 
of  persons  engaged  in  various  scenes  which  contrasted  them 
with  each  other,  and  I  remember  to  this  day  the  accuracy  of 
my  childish  imagination.  This  might  be  the  effect  of  a 
natural  turn  to  fictitious  narrative,  or  it  might  be  the 
cause  of  it,  or  there  might  be  an  action  and  reaction,  or  it 
does  not  signify  a  pin's  head  how  it  is.  But  with  a  flash  of 
this  remaining  spirit,  I  imagine  my  mother  Duty  to  be  a  sort 
of  old  task-mistress,  like  the  hag  of  the  merchant  Abudah, 
in  the  Tales  of  the  Genii — not  a  hag  though,  by  any  means ; 
on  the  contrary,  my  old  woman  wears  a  rich  old-fashioned 
gown  of  black  silk,  with  ruffles  of  triple  blonde-lace,  and 
a  coif  as  rich  as  that  of  Pearling  Jean ; 1  a  figure  and  counten- 
ance something  like  Lady  D.  S.'s  twenty  years  ago  ;  a  clear 

1  "Pearling  Jean,"  the  name  of  Sharpe's  Letters,  vol.  i.  pp.  303-5, 
the  ghost  of  the  Spanish  Nun  at  and  Ingram's  Haunted  Homes, 
Allanbank,  Berwickshire.  See  Lond.  1884,  vol.  i.,pp.  1-4. 


1827.]  JOURNAL.  375 

blue  eye,  capable  of  great  severity  of  expression,  and  con- 
forming in  that  with  a  wrinkled  brow,  of  which  the  ordinary 
expression  is  a  serious  approach  to  a  frown — a  cautionary 
and  nervous  shake  of  the  head;  in  her  withered  hand  an 
ebony  staff  with  a  crutch  head, — a  Tompion  gold  watch, 
which  annoys  all  who  know  her  by  striking  the  quarters 
as  regularly  as  if  one  wished  to  hear  them.  Occasionally 
she  has  a  small  scourge  of  nettles,  which  I  feel  her  lay 
across  my  fingers  at  this  moment,  and  so  Tace  is  Latin  for 
a  candle.1  I  have  150  pages  to  write  yet. 

March  24. — Does  Duty  not  wear  a  pair  of  round  old- 
fashioned  silver  buckles?  Buckles  she  has,  but  they  are 
square  ones.  All  belonging  to  Duty  is  rectangular.  Thus 
can  we  poor  children  of  imagination  play  with  the  ideas  we 
create,  like  children  with  soap-bubbles.  Pity  that  we  pay 
for  it  at  other  times  by  starting  at  our  shadows. 

"  Man  but  a  rush  against  Othello's  breast." 

The  hard  work  still  proceeds,  varied  only  by  a  short 
walk. 

March  25. — Hard  work  still,  but  went  to  Huntly  Burn  on 
foot,  and  returned  in  the  carriage.  Walked  well  and  stoutly — 
God  be  praised ! — and  prepared  a  whole  bundle  of  proofs  and 
copy  for  the  Blucher  to  morrow;  that  damned  work  will 
certainly  end  some  time  or  other.  As  it  drips  and  dribbles 

1  This  quaint  saying,  arising  out  he  strung  together  under  the  title 
of  some  forgotten  joke,  has  been  of  Polite  Conversation,  and  pub- 
thought  to  be  Scott's  own,  as  it  was  lished  about  1738.2  Fielding  also 
a  favourite  with  him  and  his  inti-  introduces  it  in  Amelia,3  1752.  See 
mates,  and  he  introduces  it  in  more  Notes  and  Qtteries,  first  series,  vol.  i. 
than  one  of  his  works.1  But  though  p.  385  ;  ii.  p.  45  ;  iv.  p.  450  ;  x.  p. 
its  origin  cannot  be  traced,  Swift  173 ;  sixth  series,  vol.  iii.  p.  213  ; 
uses  it  in  that  very  curious  collec-  iv.  p.  157. 
tion  of  proverbs  and  saws,  which 

1  e.g.  Redgauntlet,  ch.  xii.    Pate-in- Peril  at  Dumfries. 

-  Lord  Smart — "Well,  Tom,  can  you  tell  me  what's  Latin  for  a  candle  ?" 

Neverout — "  O,  my  Lord,  I  know  that  [answer] :  Brandy  is  Latin  for  a  goose  !  and 
Tace  is  Latin  for  a  candle." — SCOTT'S  Swift,  vol.  ix.  p.  457. 

3  "Tcce,  Madam,"  added  Murphy,  "  is  Latin  for  a  candle." — Amelia,  Bk.  i.  cap.  xi. 


376  JOURNAL.  [MARCH 

out  on  the  paper,  I  think  of  the  old  drunken  Presbyterian 
under  the  spout. 

March  26. — Despatched  packets.  Colonel  and  Captain 
Ferguson  arrived  to  breakfast.  I  had  previously  determined 
to  give  myself  a  day  to  write  letters ;  and,  as  I  expect  John 
Thomson  to  dinner,  this  day  will  do  as  well  as  another.  I 
cannot  keep  up  with  the  world  without  shying  a  letter 
now  and  then.  It  is  true  the  greatest  happiness  I  could 
think  of  would  be  to  be  rid  of  the  world  entirely.  Excepting 
my  own  family,  I  have  little  pleasure  in  the  world,  less 
business  in  it,  and  am  heartily  careless  about  all  its  concerns. 
Mr.  Thomson  came  accordingly — not  John  Thomson  of 
Duddingston,  whom  the  letter  led  me  to  expect,  but  John 
Anstruther  Thomson  of  Charlton  [Fifeshire],  the  son-in-law 
of  Lord  Ch.-Commissioner. 

March  27. — Wrote  two  leaves  this  morning,  and  gave 
the  day  after  breakfast  to  my  visitor,  who  is  a  country 
gentleman  of  the  best  description ;  knows  the  world,  having 
been  a  good  deal  attached  both  to  the  turf  and  the  field; 
is  extremely  good-humoured,  and  a  good  deal  of  a  local 
antiquary.  I  showed  him  the  plantations,  going  first  round 
the  terrace,  then  to  the  lake,  then  came  down  by  the 
Rhymer's  Glen,  and  took  carriage  at  Huntly  Burn,  almost 
the  grand  tour,  only  we  did  not  walk  from  Huntly  Burn. 
The  Fergusons  dined  with  us. 

March  28. — Mr  Thomson  left  us  about  twelve  for  Minto, 
parting  a  pleased  guest,  I  hope,  from  a  pleased  landlord. 
When  I  see  a  "  gemman  as  is  a  gemman,"  as  the  blackguards 
say,  why,  I  know  how  to  be  civil.  After  he  left  I  set 
doggedly  to  work  with  Bonaparte,  who  had  fallen  a  little 
into  arrear.  I  can  clear  the  ground  better  now  by  mashing 
up  my  old  work  in  the  Edinburgh  Eegister  with  my  new 
matter,  a  species  of  colcannen,  where  cold  potatoes  are  mixed 
with  hot  cabbage.  After  all,  I  think  Ballantyne  is  right, 
and  that  I  have  some  talents  for  history-writing  after  all. 


1827.]  JOUKNAL.  377 

That  same  history  in  the  Eegister  reads  prettily  enough. 
Coragio,  cry  Claymore.  I  finished  five  pages,  but  with 
additions  from  Eegister  they  will  run  to  more  than  double 
I  hope ;  like  Puff  in  the  Critic,  be  luxuriant.1 

Here  is  snow  back  again,  a  nasty,  comfortless,  stormy  sort 
of  a  day,  and  I  will  work  it  off  at  Boney.  What  shall 
I  do  when  Bonaparte  is  done  ?  He  engrosses  me  morning, 
noon,  and  night.  Never  mind;  Komt  Zeit  komt  Rath,  as 
the  German  says.  I  did  not  work  longer  than  twelve, 
however,  but  went  out  in  as  rough  weather  as  I  have 
seen,  and  stood  out  several  snow  blasts. 

March  29,  30.— 

"  He  walk'd  and  wrought,  poor  soul !     What  then  ? 
Why,  then  he  walk'd  and  wrought  again." 

March  31. — Day  varied  by  dining  with  Mr.  Scrope,  where 
we  found  Mr.  Williams  and  Mr.  Simson,2  both  excellent 
artists.  We  had  not  too  much  of  the  palette,  but  made  a 
very  agreeable  day  out.  I  contrived  to  mislay  the  proof- 
sheets  sent  me  this  morning,  so  that  I  must  have  a 
revise.  This  frequent  absence  of  mind  becomes  very 
exceeding  troublesome.  I  have  the  distinct  recollection  of 
laying  them  carefully  aside  after  I  dressed  to  go  to  the 
Pavilion.  Well,  I  have  a  head — the  proverb  is  musty. 

1  Sheridan's  Play,  Act  11.  Sc.  1.         scape  painter.     He  died  in  London, 

2  William  Simson,  R.S.A.,  land-      1847. 


APEIL. 

April  1. — The  proofs  are  not  to  be  found.  Applications 
from  E.  P.  G[illies].  I  must  do  something  for  him ;  yet  have 
the  melancholy  conviction  that  nothing  will  do  him  any 
good.  Then  he  writes  letters  and  expects  answers.  Then 
they  are  bothering  me  about  writing  in  behalf  of  the  oil-gas 
light,  which  is  going  to  the  devil  very  fast.  I  cannot 
be  going  a-begging  for  them  or  anybody.  Please  to  look 
down  with  an  eye  of  pity — a  poor  distressed  creature  !  No, 
not  for  the  last  morsel  of  bread.  A  dry  ditch  and  a  speedy 
death  is  worth  it  all. 

April  2. — Another  letter  from  E.  P.  G.  I  shall  begin  to 
wish,  like  S.,  that  he  had  been  murthered  and  robbed  in  his 
walks  between  Wimbledon  and  London.  John  [Archibald] 
Murray  and  his  young  wife  came  to  dinner,  and  in  good 
time.  I  like  her  very  much,  and  think  he  has  been  very 
lucky.  She  is  not  in  the  vaward  of  youth,  but  John  is 
but  two  or  three  years  my  junior.  She  is  pleasing  in 
her  manners,  and  totally  free  from  affectation ;  a  beautiful 
musician,  and  willingly  exerts  her  talents  in  that  way ;  is 
said  to  be  very  learned,  but  shows  none  of  it.  A  large 
fortune  is  no  bad  addition  to  such  a  woman's  society. 

April  3. — I  had  processes  to  decide ;  and  though  I  arose 
at  my  usual  hour,  I  could  not  get  through  above  two  of 
five  proofs.  After  breakfast  I  walked  with  John  Murray, 
and  at  twelve  we  went  for  Melrose,  where  I  had  to  show  the 
lions.  We  came  back  by  Huntly  Burn,  where  the  carriage 
broke  down,  and  gave  us  a  pretty  long  walk  home.  Mr. 
Scrope  dined  with  his  two  artists,  and  John  [Thomson  ?]. 

378 


1827.]  JOUKNAL.  379 

The  last  is  not  only  the  best  landscape-painter  of  his  age 
and  country,  but  is,  moreover,  one  of  the  warmest-hearted 
men  living,  with  a  keen  and  unaffected  feeling  of  poetry. 
Poor  fellow  !  he  has  had  many  misfortunes  in  his  family.  I 
drank  a  glass  or  two  of  wine  more  than  usual,  got  into  good 
spirits,  and  came  from  Tripoli  for  the  amusement  of  the 
good  company.  I  was  in  good  fooling. 

April  4. — I  think  I  have  a  little  headache  this  morning ; 
however,  as  Othello  says,  "  That 's  not  much."  I  saw  our 
guests  go  off  by  seven  in  the  morning,  but  was  not  in  time 
to  give  them  good-bye. 

"  And  now  again,  boys,  to  the  oar." 
I  did  not  go  to  the  oar  though,  but  walked  a  good  deal. 

April  5. — Heard  from  Lockhart;  the  Duke  of  Wellington] 
and  Croker  are  pleased  with  my  historical  labours ;  so  far 
well — for  the  former,  as  a  soldier  said  of  him,  "I  would 
rather  have  his  long  nose  on  my  side  than  a  whole  brigade." 
Well !  something  good  may  come  of  it,  and  if  it  does  it  will 
be  good  luck,  for,  as  you  and  I  know,  Mother  Duty,  it  has 
been  a  rummily  written  work.  I  wrote  hard  to-day. 

April  6. — Do.  Do.  I  only  took  one  turn  about  the  thicket, 
and  have  nothing  to  put  down  but  to  record  my  labours. 

April  7. — The  same  history  occurs;  my  desk  and  my 
exercise.  I  am  a  perfect  automaton.  Bonaparte  runs  in 
my  head  from  seven  in  the  morning  till  ten  at  night  without 
intermission.  I  wrote  six  leaves  to-day  and  corrected  four 
proofs. 

April  8. — Ginger,  being  in  my  room,  was  safely  delivered 
in  her  basket  of  four  puppies ;  the  mother  and  children  all 
doing  well.  Faith!  that  is  as  important  an  entry  as  my 
Journal  could  desire.  The  day  is  so  beautiful  that  I  long  to 
go  out.  I  won't,  though,  till  I  have  done  something.  A 
letter  from  Mr.  Gibson  about  the  trust  affairs.  If  the 
infernal  bargain  with  Constable  go  on  well,  there  will  be  a 
pretty  sop  in  the  pan  to  the  creditors ;  £35,000  at  least.  If 


380  JOURNAL.  [APRIL 

I  could  work  as  effectually  for  three  years  more,  I  shall 
stand  on  my  feet  like  a  man.  But  who  can  assure  success 
with  the  public  ? 

April  9. — I  wrote  as  hard  to-day  as  need  be,  finished 
my  neat  eight  pages,  and,  notwithstanding,  drove  out  and 
visited  at  Gattonside.  The  devil  must  be  in  it  if  the  matter 
drags  out  longer  now. 

April  10. — Some  incivility  from  the  Leith  Bank,  which 
I  despise  with  my  heels.  I  have  done  for  settling  my  affairs 
all  that  any  man — much  more  than  most  men — could  have 
done,  and  they  refuse  a  draught  of  £20,  because,  in  mistake, 
it  was  £8  overdrawn.  But  what  can  be  expected  of  a  sow 
but  a  grumph  ?  Wrought  hard,  hard. 

April  11. — The  parks  were  rouped  for  £100  a  year  more 
than  they  brought  last  year.  Poor  Abbotsford  will  come  to 
good  after  all.  In  the  meantime  it  is  Sic  vos  non  vdbis — but 
who  cares  a  farthing  ?  If  Boney  succeeds,  we  will  give  these 
affairs  a  blue  eye,  and  I  will  wrestle  stoutly  with  them, 
although 

" My  banks  they  are  covered  with  bees" l 
or  rather  with  wasps.     A  very  tough  day's  work. 

April  12. — Ha-a-lt — as  we  used  to  say,  my  proof- 
sheets  being  still  behind.  Very  unhandsome  conduct  on 
the  part  of  the  Blucher2  while  I  was  lauding  it  so 
profusely.  It  is  necessary  to  halt  and  close  up  our  files— of 
correspondence  I  mean.  So  it  is  a  chance  if,  except  for 
contradiction's  sake,  or  upon  getting  the  proof-sheets,  I  write 
a  line  to-day  at  Boney.  I  did,  however,  correct  five  revised 
sheets  and  one  proof,  which  took  me  up  so  much  of  the  day 
that  I  had  but  one  turn  through  the  courtyard.  Owing  to 
this  I  had  some  of  my  flutterings,  my  trembling  exies,  as  the 
old  people  called  the  ague.  Wrote  a  great  many  letters — 
but  no  "  copy." 

1  See  Shenstone's  Pastoral  Ballad,  Part  ii. ,  Hope. 

2  The  coach  to  Edinburgh. 


1827.]  JOURNAL.  381 

April  13. — I  have  sometimes  wondered  with  what  regu- 
larity— that  is,  for  a  shrew  of  my  impatient  temper — I 
have  been  able  to  keep  this  Journal.  The  use  of  the  first 
person  being,  of  course,  the  very  essence  of  a  diary,  I  con- 
ceive it  is  chiefly  vanity,  the  dear  pleasure  of  writing  about 
the  best  of  good  fellows,  Myself,  which  gives  me  persever- 
ance to  continue  this  idle  task.  This  morning  I  wrote 
till  breakfast,  then  went  out  and  marked  trees  to  be  cut  for 
paling,  and  am  just  returned — and  what  does  any  one  care  'I 
Ay,  but,  Gad!  I  care  myself,  though.  We  had  at  dinner 
to-day  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cranstoun  (Burns's  Maria  of  Balloch- 
myle1),  Mr.  Bainbridge  and  daughters,  and  Colonel  Russell. 

April  1 4. — Went  to  Selkirk  to  try  a  fellow  for  an  assault 
on  Dr.  Clarkson — fined  him  seven  guineas,  which,  with  his 
necessary  expenses,  will  amount  to  ten  guineas.  It  is  rather 
too  little ;  but  as  his  income  does  not  amount  to  £30  a  year, 
it  will  pinch  him  severely  enough,  and  is  better  than  sending 
him  to  an  ill-kept  jail,  where  he  would  be  idle  and  drunk 
from  morning  to  night.  I  had  a  dreadful  headache  while 
sitting  in  the  Court — rheumatism  in  perfection.  It  did  not 
last  after  I  got  warm  by  the  fireside. 

April  15. — Delightful  soft  morning,  with  mild  rain. 
Walked  out  and  got  wet,  as  a  sovereign  cure  for  the  rheu- 
matism. Was  quite  well,  though,  and  scribbled  away. 

April  16. — A  day  of  work  and  exercise.  In  the  evening 
a  letter  from  L[ockhart],  with  the  wonderful  news  that  the 
Ministry  has  broken  up,  and  apparently  for  no  cause  that 
any  one  can  explain.  The  old  grudge,  I  suppose,  betwixt 
Peel  and  Canning,  which  has  gone  on  augmenting  like  a 
crack  in  the  side  of  a  house,  which  enlarges  from  day  to  day, 
till  down  goes  the  whole.  Mr.  Canning  has  declared  himself 
fully  satisfied  with  J.  L.,  and  sent  Barrow  to  tell  him  so. 
His  suspicions  were  indeed  most  erroneous,  but  they  were 
repelled  with  no  little  spirit  both  by  L.  and  myself,  and 

1  See  "  The  Braes  of  Ballochmyle  ;"  Currie's  Burns,  vol.  iv.  p.  294. 


382  JOURNAL.  [ApiiiL 

Canning  has  not  been  like  another  Great  Man  I  know  to 
whom  I  showed  demonstrably  that  he  had  suspected  an  in- 
dividual unjustly.  "  It  may  be  so,"  he  said,  "  but  his  mode 
of  defending  himself  was  offensive." l 

Api^il  17. — Went  to  dinner  to-day  to  Mr.  Bain  bridge's 
Gattonside  House,  and  had  fireworks  in  the  evening,  made 
by  Captain  Burchard,  a  good-humoured  kind  of  Will 
Wimble.2  One  nice  little  boy  announced  to  us  everything 
that  was  going  to  be  done,  with  the  importance  of  a  prologue. 
Some  of  the  country  folks  assembled,  and  our  party  was 
enlivened  by  the  squeaks  of  the  wenches  and  the  long-pro- 
tracted Eh,  eh's!  by  which  a  Teviotdale  tup  testifies  his 
wonder. 

April  18. — I  felt  the  impatience  of  news  so  much  that 
I  walked  up  to  Mr.  Laidlaw,  surely  for  no  other  purpose 
than  to  talk  politics.  This  interrupted  Boney  a  little. 
After  I  returned,  about  twelve  or  one,  behold  Tom  Tack; 
he  comes  from  Buenos  Ayres  with  a  parcel  of  little  curiosities 
he  had  picked  up  for  me.  As  Tom  Tack  spins  a  tough  yarn, 
I  lost  the  morning  almost  entirely — what  with  one  thing, 
what  with  t'  other,  as  my  friend  the  Laird  of  Eaeburn  says. 
Nor  have  I  much  to  say  for  the  evening,  only  I  smoked  a 
cigar  more  than  usual  to  get  the  box  ended,  and  give  up  the 
custom  for  a  little. 


1  The  conduct  of  the  Quarterly  politics,    a  dignified   exhibition  of 

at  this  time  was  in  after  years  thus  personal    independence."  —  Noctes 

commented  upon  by  John  Wilson.  Ambrosianae. 

"North. — While  we  were  defend-  It  is  understood  that  Canning, 

ing  the  principles  of  the   British  who  had  received  the  King's  com- 

constitution,  bearding  its  enemies,  mands  in  April  10,  felt  keenly  the 

and    administering    to    them    the  loneliness  of  his  position — estranged 

knout,   the  Quarterly  Review  was  from  his  old  comrades,  and  deterred 

meek  and  mum  as  a  mouse.  by  the  remembrance  of  many  bitter 

"  Tickler. — Afraid    to    lose    the  satires  against  them  from  having 

countenance  and  occasional  assist-  close   intimacy   with  his  new  co- 

ance  of  Mr.  Canning.  adjutors. 

"North. — There  indeed,  James, 

was  a  beautiful  exhibition  of  party  2  See  Spectator. 


1827.]  JOURNAL.  383 

April  19. — Another  letter  from  Lockhart.1  I  am  sorry 
when  I  think  of  the  goodly  fellowship  of  vessels  which  are 
now  scattered  on  the  ocean.  There  is  the  Duke  of  Wellington, 
the  Lord  Chancellor,  Lord  Melville,  Mr.  Peel,  and  I  wot  not 
who  besides,  all  turned  out  of  office  or  resigned  !  I  wonder 
what  they  can  do  in  the  House  of  Lords  when  all  the  great 
Tories  are  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  House.  Canning  seems 
quite  serious  in  his  views  of  helping  Lockhart.  I  hope  it 
will  come  to  something. 

April  20. — A  surly  sort  of  day.  I  walked  for  two  hours, 
however,  and  then  returned  chiefly  to  Nap.  Egad !  I  believe 
it  has  an  end  at  last,  this  blasted  work.  I  have  the  fellow 
at  Plymouth,  or  near  about  it.  Well,  I  declare,  I  thought  the 
end  of  these  beastly  big  eight  volumes  was  like  the  end  of 
the  world,  which  is  always  talked  of  and  never  comes. 

April  21. — Here  is  a  vile  day — downright  rain,  which 
disconcerts  an  inroad  of  bairns  from  Gattonside,  and,  of 
course,  annihilates  a  part  of  the  stock  of  human  happiness. 
But  what  says  the  proverb  of  your  true  rainy  day — 

"  'Tis  good  for  book,  'tis  good  for  work, 
For  cup  and  can,  or  knife  and  fork." 

April  22. — Wrote  till  twelve  o'clock,  then  sallied  forth, 
and  walked  to  Huntly  Burn  with  Tom ;  and  so,  look  you,  sir, 
I  drove  home  in  the  carriage.  Wrought  in  the  afternoon, 
and  tried  to  read  De  Vere,  a  sensible  but  heavy  book,  written 

1  "...  Your  letter  has  given  me  totd  sequeld,  about  which  seqwla, 

the  vertigo— my  head  turns  round  unless  Sir  W.  Rae  and  the  Solicitor, 

like  a  chariot  wheel,  and  I  am  on  I  care  little.     The  whole  is  glamour 

the  point  of  asking —  to  one  who  reads  no  papers,  and  has 

'Why,  how  now?    Am  I  Giles,  or  am  none    to    read.     I    must  get   one, 

I  not?'  though,  if  this  work  is  to  go  on, 

"  The  Duke  of  Wellington  out  ? —  for  it  is  quite  bursting  in  ignorance, 

bad  news  at  home,  and  worse  abroad.  Canning  is  haughty  and  prejudiced 

Lord  Anglesea  in  his  situation  ?  — but,  I  think,  honourable  as  well 

— does  not  much  mend  the  matter,  as  able  :  nous  verronx.  I  fear  Croker 

Duke  of  Clarence  in  the  Navy?  will  shake,  and  heartily  sorry  I 

— wild  work.  Lord  Melville,  I  sup-  should  feel  for  that.  .  .  ." — Scott  to 

pose,  falls  of  course — perhaps  cum  Lockhart :  Life,  vol.  ix.  p.  99. 


384  JOUKNAL.  [APRIL 

by  an  able  hand — but  a  great  bore  for  all  that.1     Wrote  in 
the  evening. 

April  23. — Snowy  morning.  White  as  my  shirt.  The 
little  Bainbridges  came  over ;  invited  to  see  the  armoury, 
etc.,  which  I  stood  showman  to.  It  is  odd  how  much  less 
cubbish  the  English  boys  are  than  the  Scotch.  Well- 
mannered  and  sensible  are  the  southern  boys.  I  suppose 
the  sun  brings  them  forward.  Here  comes  six  o'clock  at 
night,  and  it  is  snowing  as  if  it  had  not  snowed  these  forty 
years  before.  Well,  I  '11  work  away  a  couple  of  chapters 
— three  at  most  will  finish  Napoleon. 

April  24. — Still  deep  snow — a  foot  thick  in  the  court- 
yard, I  dare  say.  Severe  welcome  to  the  poor  lambs  now 
coming  into  the  world.  But  what  signifies  whether  they 
die  just  now,  or  a  little  while  after  to  be  united  with  salad 
at  luncheon-time  ?  It  signifies  a  good  deal  too.  There  is  a 
period,  though  a  short  one,  when  they  dance  among  the 
gowans,  and  seem  happy.  As  for  your  aged  sheep  or.wether, 
the  sooner  they  pass  to  the  Norman  side  of  the  vocabulary 
the  better.  They  are  like  some  old  dowager  ladies  and 
gentlemen  of  my  acquaintance, — no  one  cares  about  them  till 
they  come  to  be  cut  up,  and  then  we  see  how  the  tallow  lies 
on  the  kidneys  and  the  chine. 

April  25. — Snow  yet,  and  it  prevents  my  walking,  and  I 
grow  bilious.  I  wrote  hard  though.  I  have  now  got  Boney 
pegg'd  up  in  the  knotty  entrails  of  Saint  Helena,  and  may 
make  a  short  pause. 

So  I  finished  the  review  of  John  Home's  works,  which, 
after  all,  are  poorer  than  I  thought  them.  Good  blank  verse 
and  stately  sentiment,  but  something  lukewarmish,  ex- 
cepting Douglas,  which  is  certainly  a  masterpiece.  Even 
that  does  not  stand  the  closet.  Its  merits  are  for  the  stage ; 
but  it  is  certainly  one  of  the  best  acting  plays  going. 
Perhaps  a  play,  to  act  well,  should  not  be  too  poetical. 
1  E.  Plumer  Ward.— See  July  4. 


1827.]  JOURNAL.  385 

There  is  a  talk  in  London  of  bringing  in  the  Marquis  of 
Lansdowne,  then  Lauderdale  will  perhaps  come  in  here.  It 
is  certain  the  old  Tory  party  is  down  the  wind,  not  from 
political  opinions,  but  from  personal  aversion  to  Canning. 
Perhaps  his  satirical  temper  has  partly  occasioned  this ;  but 
I  rather  consider  emulation  as  the  source  of  it,  the  head 
and  front  of  the  offending.  Croker  no  longer  rhymes  to 
joker.  He  has  made  a  good  coup,  it  is  said,  by  securing 
Lord  Hertford  for  the  new  administration.  D.  W.  calls  him 
their  viper.  After  all,  I  cannot  sympathise  with  that 
delicacy  which  throws  up  office,  because  the  most  eloquent 
man  in  England,  and  certainly  the  only  man  who  can 
manage  the  House  of  Commons,  is  named  Minister.1 

April  26. — The  snow  still  profusely  distributed,  and  the 
surface,  as  our  hair  used  to  be  in  youth,  after  we  had  played 
at  some  active  game,  half  black,  half  white,  all  in  large 
patches.  I  finished  the  criticism  on  Home,  adding  a  string 
of  Jacobite  anecdotes,  like  that  which  boys  put  to  a  kite's 
tail.  Sent  off  the  packet  to  Lockhart ;  at  the  same  time  sent 
Croker  a  volume  of  French  tracts,  containing  La  Portefeuille 
de  Bonaparte,  which  he  wished  to  see.  Eeceived  a  great 
cargo  of  papers  from  Bernadotte,  some  curious,  and  would 
have  been  inestimable  two  months  back,  but  now  my  siege 
is  almost  made.  Still  my  feelings  for  poor  Count  Itterburg,2 

1  A  fuller   statement  of  Scott's  voted  himself  mainly  to  the  study 
views  at  this  crisis  will  be  found  in  of  military  matters,   and  out-door 
his  letters  to  Lockhart  and  Morritt  exercises,  roughing  it  in  all  sorts  of 
in  Life,  vol.  ix.    (April,  May,  and  weather,  sometimes, — to  his  mentor 
June,  1827).  Baron  Polier's  uneasiness, — setting 

2  Count   Itterburg,   then    in  his  out  on  dark  and  stormy  nights,  and 
20th  year,  was  the  name  under  which  making  his  way  across  country  from 
Gustavus,  the  ex-Crown  Prince  of  point  to  point     This  self-imposed 
Sweden,  visited  Scotland  in  1819.  training   was  no  doubt   with  the 
It  was  his  intention  to  study  at  the  secret  hope  that  he    might   some 
University  of  Edinburgh  during  the  day  be  called  upon  by  the  Swedes 
winter  session,  but,  his  real  name  to  oust  Bernadotte,  and  mount  the 
becoming  known,  this  was  rendered  throne  of  the  great  Gustavus.     Mr. 
impracticable  by  the  curiosity  and  Skene    saw  a  good  deal  of    him, 
attention  of  the  public.       He  de-  and  gives  many  interesting  details 


386 


JOURNAL 


[APEIL 


the  lineal  and  legitimate,  make  me  averse  to  have  much  to 
do  with  this  child  of  the  revolution. 

April  27. — This  hand  of  mine  gets  to  be  like  a  kitten's 
scratch,  and  will  require  much  deciphering,  or,  what  may  be 
as  well  for  the  writer,  cannot  be  deciphered  at  all.  I  am 


of  his  life  in  Edinburgh,  such  as 
the  following  account  of  a  meet- 
ing at  his  own  house.  ' '  He  was 
interested  with  a  set  of  portraits 
of  the  two  last  generations  of 
the  Royal  Family  of  Scotland, 
which  hung  in  my  dining-room, 
and  which  had  been  presented  to 
my  grandfather  by  Prince  Charles 
Edward,  in  consideration  of  the 
sacrifices  he  had  made  for  the 
Prince's  service  during  the  unfor- 
tunate enterprise  of  the  year  1745, 
having  raised  and  commanded  one 
of  the  battalions  of  Lord  Lewis 
Gordon's  brigade.  The  portrait  of 
Prince  Charles  Edward,  taken  about 
the  same  age  as  Comte  Itterburg, 
and  no  doubt  also  the  marked 
analogy  existing  in  the  circum- 
stances to  which  they  had  been 
each  reduced,  seemed  much  to  en- 
gage his  notice ;  and  when  the 
ladies  had  retired  he  begged  me  to 
give  him  some  account  of  the  re- 
bellion, and  of  the  various  en- 
deavours of  the  Stewarts  to  regain 
the  Scottish  crown.  The  subject 
was  rather  a  comprehensive  one, 
but  having  done  my  best  to  put 
him  in  possession  of  the  leading 
features,  it  seemed  to  have  taken 
very  strong  hold  of  his  mind,  as  he 
frequently,  at  our  subsequent  meet- 
ings, reverted  to  the  subject.  Upon 
another  occasion  by  degrees  the 
topic  of  conversation  slipped  into 
its  wonted  channel — the  rebellion 
of  1745,  its  final  disaster,  and  the 
singular  escape  of  the  Prince  from 
the  pursuit  of  his  enemies.  The 
Comte  inquired  what  effect  the 


failure  of  the  enterprise  had  pro- 
duced upon  the  Prince's  character, 
with  whose  gallant  bearing  and 
enthusiasm,  in  the  conduct  of  his 
desperate  enterprise,  he  evinced 
the  strongest  interest  and  sym- 
pathy. I  stated  briefly  the  mor- 
tifying disappointments  to  which 
Charles  Edward  was  exposed  in 
France,  the  hopelessness  of  his 
cause,  and  the  indifference  generally 
shown  to  him  by  the  continental 
courts,  which  so  much  preyed  on 
his  mind  as  finally  to  stifle  every 
spark  of  his  former  character,  so 
that  he  gave  himself  up  to  a  listless 
indifference,  which  terminated  in 
his  becoming  a  sot  during  the  latter 
years  of  his  life.  On  turning  round 
to  the  Prince,  who  had  been  listen- 
ing to  these  details,  I  perceived  the 
big  drops  chasing  each  other  down 
his  cheeks  and  therefore  changed 
the  subject,  and  he  never  again  re- 
curred to  it." — Reminiscences. 

Count  Itterburg,  or  Prince  Gus- 
tavus  Vasa,  to  give  him  the  title  of 
an  old  family  dignity  which  he 
assumed  in  1829,  entered  the  Aus- 
trian army,  in  which  he  attained 
the  rank  of  Lieutenant  Field-Mar- 
shal. His  services,  it  is  needless 
to  say,  were  never  required  by 
the  Swedes,  though  he  never  relin- 
quished his  pretensions,  and  claimed 
the  throne  at  his  father's  death  in 
1 837.  He  died  at  Pilhiitz  on  the  4th 
August  1877,  leaving  one  daughter, 
the  present  Queen  of  Saxony. 

Notices  of  his  visits  to  39  Castle 
Street  and  Abbotsford.  are  given 
in  the  6th  vol.  of  Life. 


1827.]  JOURNAL.  387 

sure  I  cannot  read  it  myself.  "Weather  better,  which  is  well, 
as  I  shall  get  a  walk.  I  have  been  a  little  nervous,  having 
been  confined  to  the  house  for  three  days.  Well,  I  may 
be  disabled  from  duty,  but  my  tamed  spirits  and  sense  of 
dejection  have  quelled  all  that  freakishness  of  humour 
which  made  me  a  voluntary  idler.  I  present  myself  to  the 
morning  task,  as  the  hack-horse  patiently  trudges  to  the 
pole  of  his  chaise,  and  backs,  however  reluctantly,  to  have 
the  traces  fixed.  Such  are  the  uses  of  adversity. 

April  28. — Wrought  at  continuing  the  Works,  with  some 
criticism  on  Defoe.1  I  have  great  aversion,  I  cannot  tell 
why,  to  stuffing  the  "Border  Antiquities"  into  what  they 
call  the  Prose  Works. 

There  is  no  encouragement,  to  be  sure,  for  doing  better, 
for  nobody  seems  to  care.  I  cannot  get  an  answer  from 
J.  Ballantyne,  whether  he  thinks  the  review  on  the  High- 
lands would  be  a  better  substitution. 

April  29. — Colonel  and  Captain  Ferguson  dined  here 
with  Mr.  Laidlaw.  I  wrote  all  the  morning,  then  cut  some 
wood.  I  think  the  weather  gets  too  warm  for  hard  work 
with  the  axe,  or  I  get  too  stiff  and  easily  tired. 

April  30. — Went  to  Jedburgh  to  circuit,  where  found 
my  old  friend  and  schoolfellow,  D.  Monypenny.2  Nothing 
to-day  but  a  pack  of  riff-raff  cases  of  petty  larceny  and  trash. 
Dined  as  usual  with  the  Judge,  and  slept  at  my  old  friend 
Mr.  Shortreed's. 

1  This  refers  to  the  Miscellaneous  296,  forming  a  supplement  to  John 

Prose  Works,  forming  24  vols.,  the  Ballantyne's  Biographical  Notice  of 

publication  of  which  did  not  com-  Defoe  in  the  same  volume.     The 

mence  until  May  1834,  although,  as  "Essay   on    Border    Antiquities" 

is  shown  by  the  Journal,  the  author  appeared,  notwithstanding  Scott's 

was  busy  in  its  preparation.     The  misgivings,  in  the  seventh  volume, 
"criticism  on  Defoe  "  will  be  found 

in    the    fourth    volume,   pp.    247-  2  Lord  Pitmilly. — See  ante,  p.  125. 


MAY. 

May  1. — Brought  Andrew  Shortreed  to  copy  some  things 
I  want.  Maxpopple  came  with  us  as  far  as  Lessudden,  and 
we  stopped  and  made  a  pilgrimage  to  Fair  Maiden  Lilliard's 
Stone,  which  has  been  restored  lately,  to  the  credit  of  Mr. 
Walker  of  Muirhouselaw.1  Set  my  young  clerk  to  work 
when  we  came  home,  and  did  some  laborious  business.  A 
letter  from  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence  informed  me  I  am  chosen 
Professor  of  Antiquities  to  the  Eoyal  Academy — a  beautiful 
professor  to  be  sure ! 

May  2. — Did  nothing  but  proofs  this  morning.  At  ten 
went  to  Selkirk  to  arrange  about  the  new  measures,  which, 
like  all  new  things,  will  throw  us  into  confusion  for  a  little 
at  least.  The  weather  was  so  exquisitely  good  that  I  walked 
after  tea  to  half-past  eight,  and  enjoyed  a  sort  of  half-lazy, 
half-sulky  humour — like  Caliban's,  "  There 's  wood  enough 
within." 2  Well,  I  may  be  the  bear,  but  I  must  mount  the 
ragged  staff  all  the  same.  I  set  my  myself  to  labour  for 
K.  P.  G.3  The  Germanic  Horrors  are  my  theme,  and  I  think 
something  may  be  yet  made  of  them. 

1  The  rude    inscription    on    the      Border  amazon,    slain  at  Ancrum 
stone  placed  over  the  grave  of  this      Moor,  A,D.  1545,  ran  thus — 

"  Fair  maiden  Lilliard  lies  under  this  stane, 
Little  was  her  stature  but  great  was  her  fame, 
Upon  the  English  louns  she  laid  many  thumps, 
And  when  her  legs  were  cuttet  off  she  fought  upon  her  stumps." 

See  New  Slat.  Account  Scot.,  "Rox-  pecuniary    affairs    rendered    such 

burgh, "p.  244.  assistance  very  desirable.     Scott's 

2  Tempest,  Act  I.  Sc.  2.  generosity  in  this  matter — for  it  was 

3  An    article    for    the    Foreign  exactly  giving  a  poor  brother  author 
Quarterly  Review,  regarding  which  £100  at  the  expense  of  considerable 
Mr.  Lockhart  Sciys  : — "It  had  then  time  and  drudgery  to  himself — I 
been  newly  started  under  the  Editor-  think  it  necessary  to  mention ;  the 
ship   of  Mr.    R.   P.   Gillies.     This  date  of  the  exertion  requires  it  of 
article,  it  is  proper  to  observe,  was  me. " — Life,  vol.  ix.  pp.  72-3  ;  see 
.a  benefaction  to  Mr.  Gillies,  whose  Misc.  Prow.  WorJcs,vo\.  xviii.  p.  270. 

333 


1827.]  JOUKNAL.  389 

May  3. — An  early  visit  from  Mr.  Thomas  Stewart,  nephew 
of  Duchess  of  Wellington,  with  a  letter  from  his  aunt.  He 
seems  a  well-behaved  and  pleasant  young  man.  I  walked 
him  through  the  Glen.  Colonel  Ferguson  came  to  help  us 
out  at  dinner,  and  then  we  had  our  wine  and  wassail. 

May  4. — Corrected  proofs  in  the  morning.  Mr.  Stewart 
still  here,  which  prevented  work ;  however,  I  am  far  before- 
hand with  everything.  We  walked  a  good  deal ;  asked  Mr. 
Alexander  Pringle,  Whytbank,  to  dinner.  This  is  rather 
losing  time,  though. 

May  5. — Worked  away  upon  those  wild  affairs  of  Hoff- 
mann for  Gillies.  I  think  I  have  forgot  my  German  very 
much,  and  then  the  stream  of  criticism  does  not  come  freely 
at  all :  I  cannot  tell  why.  I  gave  it  up  in  despair  at  half- 
past  one,  and  walked  out. 

Had  a  letter  from  R.  P.  G.  He  seems  in  spirits  about  his 
work.  I  wish  it  may  answer.  Under  good  encouragement 
it  certainly  might.  But 

Maxpopple  came  to  dinner,  and  Mr.  Laidlaw  after  dinner, 
so  that  broke  up  a  day,  which  I  can  ill  spare.  Mr.  Stewart 
left  us  this  day. 

May  6. — Wrought  again  at  Hoffmann — unfructuously  I 
fear — unwillingly  I  am  certain ;  but  how  else  can  I  do  a 
little  good  in  my  generation  ?  I  will  try  a  walk.  I  would 
fain  catch  myself  in  good-humour  with  my  task,  but  that 
will  not  be  easy. 

May  7. — Finished  Hoffmann,  talis  giialis.  I  don't  like  it ; 
but  then  I  have  been  often  displeased  with  things  that  have 
proved  successful.  Our  own  labours  become  disgusting  in 
our  eyes,  from  the  ideas  having  been  turned  over  and  over  in 
our  own  minds.  To  others,  to  whom  they  are  presented  for 
the  first  time,  they  have  a  show  of  novelty.  God  grant  it 
may  prove  so.  I  would  help  the  poor  fellow  if  I  could,  for 
I  am  poor  myself. 

May  8. — Corrected  Hoffmann  with  a  view  to  send  him 


390  JOURNAL.  [MAY 

off,  which,  however,  I  could  not  accomplish.  I  finished  a 
criticism  on  Defoe's  Writings.1  His  great  forte  is  his  power 
of  vraisemttance.  This  I  have  instanced  in  the  story  of 
Mrs.  Veal's  Ghost.  Ettrick  Shepherd  arrived. 

May  9. — This  day  we  went  to  dinner  at  Mr.  Scrope's,  at 
the  Pavilion,  where  were  the  Haigs  of  Bemerside,  Isaac 
Haig,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bainbridge,  etc.  Warm  dispute  whether 
par  are  or  are  not  salmon  trout  "  Fleas  are  not  lobsters, 
d — n  their  souls." 

Mr.  Scrope  has  made  a  painting  of  Tivoli,  which,  when 
mellowed  a  little  by  time,  will  be  a  fine  one.  Letters  from 
Lockhart,  with  news  concerning  the  beautiful  mess  they  are 
making  in  London.  Henry  Scott  will  be  threatened  in 
Koxburghshire.  This  would  be  bad  policy,  as  it  would  drive 
the  young  Duke  to  take  up  his  ground,  which,  unless  pressed, 
he  may  be  in  no  hurry  to  do.  Personally,  I  do  not  like  to 
be  driven  to  a  point,  as  I  think  Canning  may  do  much  for 
the  country,  provided  he  does  not  stand  committed  to  his 
new  Whig  counsellors.  But  if  the  push  does  come,  I  will 
not  quit  my  old  friends — that  I  am  freely  resolved,  and 
dissolutely,  as  Slender  says.2 

May  10. — We  went  to  breakfast  at  Huntly  Burn,  and  I 
wandered  all  the  morning  in  the  woods  to  avoid  an  English 
party  who  came  to  see  the  house.  When  I  came  home  I 
found  my  cousin  Col.  Russell,  and  his  sister,  so  I  had  no 
work  to-day  but  my  labour  at  proofs  in  the  morning.  To- 
day I  dismiss  my  aide-de-camp,  Shortreed — a  fine  lad.  The 
Boar  of  the  Forest  left  us  after  breakfast.  Had  a  present  of 
a  medal  forming  one  of  a  series  from  Chantrey's  busts.  But 
this  is  not  for  nothing :  the  donor  wants  a  motto  for  the 
reverse  of  the  King's  medal.  I  am  a  bad  hand  to  apply  to. 

May  11. — Hogg  called  this  morning  to  converse  about 
trying  to  get  him  on  the  pecuniary  list  of  the  Royal  Literary 
Society.  Certainly  he  deserves  it,  if  genius  and  necessity 
could  do  so.  But  I  do  not  belong  to  the  society,  nor  do  I 

1  See  note  l,  p.  387.  a  Merry  Wives,  Act  I.  Sc.  1. 


1827.]  JOURNAL.  391 

propose  to  enter  it  as  a  coadjutor.  I  don't  like  your  royal 
academies  of  this  kind ;  they  almost  always  fall  into  jobs,  and 
the  members  are  seldom  those  who  do  credit  to  the  literature 
of  a  country.  It  affected,  too,  to  comprehend  those  men  of 
letters  who  are  specially  attached  to  the  Crown,  and  though  I 
love  and  honour  my  King  as  much  as  any  of  them  can,  yet  I 
hold  it  best,  in  this  free  country,  to  preserve  the  exterior 
of  independence,  that  my  loyalty  may  be  the  more  impressive, 
and  tell  more  effectually.  Yet  I  wish  sincerely  to  help  poor 
Hogg,  and  have  written  to  Lockhart  about  it.  It  may  be 
my  own  desolate  feelings — it  may  be  the  apprehension  of 
evil  from  this  political  hocus-pocus,  but  I  have  seldom  felt 
more  moody  and  uncomfortable  than  while  writing  these 
lines.  I  have  walked,  too,  but  without  effect.  W.  Laidlaw, 
whose  very  ingenious  mind  is  delighted  with  all  novelties, 
talked  nonsense  about  the  new  government,  in  which  men 
are  to  resign  principle,  I  fear,  on  both  sides. 

May  1 2. — Wrote  Lockhart  on  what  I  think  the  upright  and 
honest  principle,  and  am  resolved  to  vex  myself  no  more 
about  it.  Walked  with  my  cousin,  Colonel  Eussell,  for  three 
hours  in  the  woods,  and  enjoyed  the  sublime  and  delectable 
pleasure  of  being  well, — and  listened  to  on  the  subject  of 
my  favourite  themes  of  laying  out  ground  and  plantation. 
Russell  seems  quite  to  follow  such  an  excellent  authority, 
and  my  spirits  mounted  while  I  found  I  was  haranguing 
to  a  willing  and  patient  pupil.  To  be  sure,  Ashestiel,  plant- 
ing the  high  knolls,  and  drawing  woodland  through  the 
pasture,  could  be  made  one  of  the  most  beautiful  forest 
things  in  the  world.  I  have  often  dreamed  of  putting  it 
in  high  order ;  and,  judging  from  what  I  have  been  able  to 
do  here,  I  think  I  should  have  succeeded.  At  any  rate, 
my  blue  devils  are  flown  at  the  sense  of  retaining  some  sort 
of  consequence.  Lord,  what  fools  we  are ! 

May  13. — A  most  idle  and  dissipated  day.  I  did  not  rise 
till  half-past  eight  o'clock.  Col.  and  Capt.  Ferguson  came 
to  breakfast.  I  walked  half-way  home  with  them,  then 


392  JOUENAL.  [MAY 

turned  back  and  spent  the  day,  which  was  delightful,  wander- 
ing from  place  to  place  in  the  woods,  sometimes  reading  the 
new  and  interesting  volumes  of  Cyril  FJiornton,1  sometimes 
chewing  the  cud  of  sweet  and  bitter  fancy  which  strangely 
alternated  in  my  mind,  idly  stirred  by  the  succession  of 
a  thousand  vague  thoughts  and  fears,  the  gay  thoughts 
strangely  mingled  with  those  of  dismal  melancholy ;  tears, 
which  seemed  ready  to  flow  unbidden ;  smiles,  which  ap- 
proached to  those  of  insanity ;  all  that  wild  variety  of  mood 
which  solitude  engenders.  I  scribbled  some  verses,  or  rather 
composed  them  in  my  memory.  The  contrast  at  leaving 
Abbotsford  to  former  departures  is  of  an  agitating  and 
violent  description.  Assorting  papers  and  so  forth.  I  never 
could  help  admiring  the  concatenation  between  Ahitophel's 
setting  his  house  in  order  and  hanging  himself.  The  one 
seems  to  me  to  follow  the  other  as  a  matter  of  course.  I  don't 
mind  the  trouble,  though  my  head  swims  with  it.  I  do  not 
mind  meeting  accounts,  which  unpaid  remind  you  of  your 
distress,  or  paid  serve  to  show  you  you  have  been  throwing 
away  money  you  would  be  glad  to  have  back  again.  I 
do  not  mind  the  strange  contradictory  mode  of  papers  hiding 
themselves  that  you  wish  to  see,  and  others  thrusting  them- 
selves into  your  hand  to  confuse  and  bewilder  you.  There  is 
a  clergyman's  letter  about  the  Scottish  pronunciation,  to 
which  I  had  written  an  answer  some  weeks  since  (the  parson 
is  an  ass,  by  the  by).  But  I  had  laid  aside  my  answer,  being 
unable  to  find  the  letter  which  bore  his  address ;  and,  in  the 
course  of  this  day,  both  his  letter  with  the  address,  and  my 
answer  which  wanted  the  address,  fell  into  my  hands  half-a- 
dozen  times,  but  separately  always.  This  was  the  positive 
malice  of  some  hobgoblin,  and  I  submit  to  it  as  such.  But 
what  frightens  and  disgusts  me  is  those  fearful  letters  from 
those  who  have  been  long  dead,  to  those  who  linger  on  their 

1  The    Youth    and    Manhood    of     Hamilton,  had  just  been  published 
Cyril  Thornton,  by  Captain  Thomas      anonymously. 


1827.]  JOUKNAL.  393 

wayfare  through  this  valley  of  tears.  These  fine  lines  of 
Spencer  came  into  my  head — 

"When  midnight  o'er  the  pathless  skies."1 

Ay,  and  can  I  forget  the  author! — the  frightful  moral  of 
his  own  vision.  What  is  this  world  ?  A  dream  within  a 
dream — as  we  grow  older  each  step  is  an  awakening.  The 
youth  awakes  as  he  thinks  from  childhood — the  full-grown 
man  despises  the  pursuits  of  youth  as  visionary — the  old 
man  looks  on  manhood  as  a  feverish  dream.  The  Grave  the 
last  sleep  ? — no ;  it  is  the  last  and  final  awakening. 

May  14. — To  town  per  Blucher  coach,  well  stowed  and 
crushed,  but  saved  cash,  coming  off  for  less  than  £2  ;  posting 
costs  nearly  five,  and  you  don't  get  on  so  fast  by  one-third. 
Arrived  in  my  old  lodgings  here  with  a  stouter  heart  than  I 
expected.  Dined  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Skene,  and  met  Lord 
Medwyn  and  lady. 

May  15. — Parliament  House  a  queer  sight.  Looked  as 
if  people  were  singing  to  each  other  the  noble  song  of  "  The 
sky 's  falling — chickie  diddle."  Thinks  I  to  myself,  I  '11  keep 
a  calm  sough. 

"  Betwixt  both  sides  I  unconcerned  stand  by  ;    . 
Hurt,  can  I  laugh,  and  honest,  need  I  cry  1" 

I  wish  the  old  Government  had  kept  together,  but  their 
personal  dislike  to  Canning  seems  to  have  rendered  that 
impossible. 

I  dined  at  a  great  dinner  given  by  Sir  George  Clerk  to 

1  Mr.  Lockhart  adds  the  follow-  best  writer  of  vers  de  socidtd  in  our 

ing  lines  : —  time,  and  one  of  the  most  charming  of 

' '  The  shade  of  youthful  hope  is  there,  companions,  was  exactly  Sir  Walter's 

That  lingered  long,  and  latest  died;  contemporary,  and,  like  him,  first 

Ambitions  all  dissolved  to  air,  , .  v  £ 

With  phantom  honours  by  his  side.  attracted  notice  by  a  version  of 

Burger's Lenore.  Like  him,  too,  this 

What  empty  shadows  glimmer  nigh  ?  ,  ,  ,  .  ,,  •  , 

They  once  were  friendship,  truth,  and  remarkable  man  fell  into  pecuniary 

love  j  distress  in  the  disastrous  year  1825, 

Ob,  die  to  thought,  to  memory  die,  and  he  was  now  (1826)  an  involun- 

Since  lifeless  to  my  heart  ye  prove.  t^y  resident  in  Paris,  where  he  died 

(Poems  by  the  Hon.  W.  R.  Spen-  in  October  1834,  anno  oetat.  65." — 

cer,  London,  1811,  p.  68.)  "The  j.  G.  L. 


394  JOURNAL.  [MAY 

his  electors,  the  freeholders  of  Midlothian ;  a  great  attendance 
of  Whig  and  Tory,  huzzaing  each  other's  toasts.  If  is  a  good 
peacemaker,  but  quarter-day  is  a  better.  I  have  a  guess 
the  best  gamecocks  would  call  a  truce  if  a  handful  or  two  of 
oats  were  scattered  among  them. 

May  16. — Mr.  John  Gibson  says  the  Trustees  are  to 
allow  my  expense  in  travelling — £300,  with  £50  taken  in  in 
Longman's  bill.  This  will  place  me  rectus  in  curia,  and  not 
much  more,  faith ! 

There  is  a  fellow  bawling  out  a  ditty  in  the  street,  the 
burthen  of  which  is 

"  There 's  nothing  but  poverty  everywhere." 

He  shall  not  be  a  penny  richer  for  telling  me  what  I  know 
but  too  well  without  him. 

May  17. — Learned  with  great  distress  the  death  of  poor 
Richard  Lockhart,  the  youngest  brother  of  my  son-in-law. 
He  had  an  exquisite  talent  for  acquiring  languages,  and  was 
under  the  patronage  of  my  kinsman,  George  Swinton,  who 
had  taken  him  into  his  own  family  at  Calcutta,  and  now 
he  is  drowned  in  a  foolish  bathing  party. 

May  18. — Heard  from  Abbotsford ;  all  well.  Wrought 
to-day  but  awkwardly.  Tom  Campbell  called,  warm  from 
his  Glasgow  Rectorship  ;  he  is  looking  very  well.  He  seemed 
surprised  that  I  did  not  know  anything  about  the  contentions 
of  Tories,  Whigs,  and  Radicals,  in  the  great  commercial  city. 
I  have  other  eggs  on  the  spit.  He  stayed  but  a  few  minutes.1 

1  The  following  note  to  Mr.  and  In  fact  I  have  the  rheumatism  in 

Mrs.  Skene  belongs  to  this  day  : —  head  and  shoulders,  and  am  obliged 

My    dear    Friends, — I    am    just  to  deprive  myself  of  the  pleasure 

returned  from  Court  dreeping  like  of    waiting    upon    you    to-day   to 

the  Water    Kelpy  when    he    had  dinner,  to  my  great  mortification.— 

finished   the   Laird   of   Morphey's  Always  yours,      WALTER  SCOTT. 

Bridge,  and  am,  like  that  ill-used  WALKER  STREET, 

drudge,  disposed  to  sing —  Friday,  isth  May  1827. 

Sair  back  and  sair  banes.1  — Skene's  Reminiscences. 

1  Sair  back  and  sair  banes 
Carrying  the  Lord  of  Morphey's  stanes. 

Border  Minstrelsy,  vol.  iii.  pp.  360,  365. 


1827.]  JOURNAL.  395 

May  1 9. — Went  out  to-day  to  Sir  John  Dalrymple's,1  at 
Oxenford,  a  pretty  place;  the  lady  a  daughter  of  Lord 
Duncan.  Will  Clerk  and  Robert  Graeme  went  with  me.  A 
good  dinner  and  pleasant  enough  party ;  but  ten  miles  going 
and  ten  miles  coming  make  twenty,  and  that  is  something  of 
a  journey.  Got  a  headache  too  by  jolting  about  after  dinner. 

May  20. — Wrote  a  good  deal  at  Appendix  [to  Bonaparte], 
or  perhaps  I  should  say  tried  to  write.  Got  myself  into  a 
fever  when  I  had  finished  four  pages,  and  went  out  at  eight 
o'clock  at  night  to  cool  myself  if  possible.  Walked  with 
difficulty  as  far  as  Skene's,2  and  there  sat  and  got  out  of  my 
fidgety  feeling.  Learned  that  the  Princes  Street  people 
intend  to  present  me  with  the  key  of  their  gardens,  which 
will  be  a  great  treat,  as  I  am  too  tender-hoofed  for  the 
stones.  We  must  now  get  to  work  in  earnest. 

May  21. — Accordingly  this  day  I  wrought  tightly,  and 
though  not  in  my  very  best  mood  I  got  on  in  a  very  business- 
like manner.  Was  at  the  Gas  Council,  where  I  found  things 
getting  poorly  on.  The  Treasury  have  remitted  us  to  the 
Exchequer.  The  Committee  want  me  to  make  private 
interest  with  the  L.  C.  Baron.  That  I  won't  do,  but  I  will 
state  their  cause  publicly  any  way  they  like. 

May  22. — At  Court — home  by  two,  walking  through  the 
Princes  Street  Gardens  for  the  first  time.  Called  on  Mrs. 
Jobson.  Worked  two  hours.  Must  dress  to  dine  at  Mr. 
John  Borthwick's,  with  the  young  folk,  now  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Dempster.3  Kindly  and  affectionately  received  by  my  good 
young  friends,  who  seem  to  have  succeeded  to  their  parents' 
regard  for  me. 

1  Afterwards     (in    1840)    eighth      listening  to  these  pleasant  impres- 
Earl  of  Stair.  sions  of  a  dinner  party  given  in  her 

*  126  Princes  Street.  b°n°ur  *™^™  years  ag°>   a°d 

which    she    never  forgot,   nor  Sir 

3  George  Dempster  of  Skibo  had  Walter's  talk  as  he  sat  next  her  at 

just  married   a    daughter    of   the  table,  and  with  unfeigned  kindness 

House  of  Arniston.     This  lady  has  devoted  himself  to  her  entertain- 

had    the    singular   gratification  of  ment. 


396  JOUKNAL.  [MAY 

May  23. — Got  some  books,  etc.,  which  I  wanted  to  make 
up  the  Saint  Helena  affair.  Set  about  making  up  the 
Appendix,  but  found  I  had  mislaid  a  number  of  the  said 
postliminary  affair.  Had  Hogg's  nephew  here  as  a  tran- 
scriber, a  modest  and  well-behaved  young  man — clever,  too, 
I  think.1  Being  Teind  Wednesday  I  was  not  obliged  to  go 
to  the  Court,  and  am  now  bang  up,  and  shall  soon  finish  Mr. 
Nappy.  And  how  then  ?  Ay,  marry,  sir,  that's  the  question. 

"Lord,  what  will  all  the  people  say, 
Mr.  Mayor,  Mr.  Mayor  ! " 

"  The  fires  i'  the  lowest  hell  fold  in  the  people ! " 2  as 
Coriolanus  says.  I  live  not  in  their  report,  I  hope. 

May  24. — Mr.  Gibson  paid  me  £70  more  of  my  London 
journey.  A  good  thought  came  into  my  head  :  to  write  stories 
for  little  Johnnie  Lockhart  from  the  History  of  Scotland, 
like  those  taken  from  the  History  of  England.  I  will  not 
write  mine  quite  so  simply  as  Croker  has  done.  I  am  per- 
suaded both  children  and  the  lower  class  of  readers  hate 
books  which  are  written  down  to  their  capacity,  and  love 
those  that  are  more  composed  for  their  elders  and  betters. 
I  will  make,  if  possible,  a  book  that  a  child  will  understand, 
yet  a  man  will  feel  some  temptation  to  peruse  should  he 
chance  to  take  it  up.  It  will  require,  however,  a  simplicity 
of  style  not  quite  my  own.  The  grand  and  interesting 
consists  in  ideas,  not  in  words.  A  clever  thing  of  this  kind 
will  have  a  run — 

"  Little  to  say, 
But  wrought  away, 
Aud  went  out  to  dine  with  the  Skenes  to-day." 

Eather  too  many  dinner  engagements  on  my  list.  Must  be 
hard-hearted.  I  cannot  say  I  like  my  solitary  days  the 
worst  by  any  means.  I  dine,  when  I  like,  on  soup  or  broth, 
and  drink  a  glass  of  porter  or  ginger-beer ;  a  single  tumbler  of 
whisky  and  water  concludes  the  debauch.  This  agrees  with 

1  See  Life,  vol.  ix.  p.  114.  2  Coriolanus,  Act  in.  Sc.  3. 


1827.]  JOUKNAL.  397 

me  charmingly.  At  ten  o'clock  bread  and  cheese,  a  single 
draught  of  small  beer,  porter,  or  ginger-beer,  and  to  bed. 

May  26. — I  went  the  same  dull  and  weary  round  out  to 
the  Parliament  House,  which  bothers  one's  brains  for  the  day. 
Nevertheless,  I  get  on.  Pages  vanish  from  under  my  hand, 
and  find  their  way  to  «J.  Ballantyne,  who  is  grinding  away 
with  his  presses.  I  think  I  may  say,  now  I  begin  to  get 
rid  of  the  dust  raised  about  me  by  so  many  puzzling  little 
facts,  that  it  is  plain  sailing  to  the  end. 

Dined  at  Skene's  with  George  Forbes  and  lady.  But 
that  was  yesterday. 

May  27. — I  got  ducked  in  coming  home  from  the  Court. 
Naboclish ! — I  thank  thee,  Pat,  for  teaching  me  the  word. 
Made  a  hard  day  of  it.  Scarce  stirred  from  one  room  to 
another,  but  at  bed-time  finished  a  handsome  handful  of 
copy.  I  have  quoted  Gourgaud's  evidence ;  I  suppose  he 
will  be  in  a  rare  passion,  and  may  be  addicted  to  venge- 
ance, like  a  long-moustached  son  of  a  French  bitch  as  he 
is.  Naboclish  !  again  for  that. 

"Frenchman,  Devil,  or  Don, 
Damn  him,  let  him  come  on, 

He  shan't  scare  a  son  of  the  Island." l 

May  28. — Another  day  of  uninterrupted  study ;  two  such 
would  finish  the  work  with  a  murrain.  I  have  several 
engagements  next  week ;  I  wonder  how  I  was  such  a  fool  as 
to  take  them.  I  think  I  shall  be  done,  however,  before 
Saturday.  What  shall  I  have  to  think  of  when  I  lie  down 
at  night  and  awake  in  the  morning  ?  What  will  be  my 
plague  and  my  pastime,  my  curse  and  my  blessing,  as  ideas 
come  and  the  pulse  rises,  or  as  they  flag  and  something  like 
a  snow  haze  covers  my  whole  imagination  ?  I  have  my 
HigUand  Tales — and  then — never  mind,  sufficient  for  the 
day  is  the  evil  thereof. 

May  29. — Detained  at  the  House  till  near  three.  Made 
a  call  on  Mrs.  Jobson  and  others ;  also  went  down  to  the 

1  Sir  Walter  varies  a  verse  of  The  tight  little  Island. — J.  o.  L. 


398  JOUKNAL.  [MAY  1827. 

printing-office.     I  hope  James  Ballantyne  will  do  well.     I 
think  and  believe  he  will.     Wrought  in  the  evening. 

May  SO. — Having  but  a  trifle  on  the  roll  to-day,  I  set  hard 
to  work,  and  brought  myself  in  for  a  holiday,  or  rather  played 
truant.  At  two  o'clock  went  to  a  Mr.  Mackenzie  in  my 
old  house  at  Castle  Street,  to  have  some  touches  given  to 
Walker's  print.1  Afterwards,  having  young  Hogg  with  me 
as  an  amanuensis,  I  took  to  the  oar  till  near  ten  o'clock.2 

May  31. — Being  a  Court  day  I  was  engaged  very  late. 
Then  I  called  at  the  printing-house,  but  got  no  exact  calcula- 
tion how  we  come  on.  Met  Mr.  Cadell,  who  bids,  as  the 
author's  copy  [money]  Is.  profit  on  each  book  of  Hugh  Little- 
john.  I  thought  this  too  little.  My  general  calculation  is 
on  such  profits,  that,  supposing  the  book  to  sell  to  the  public 
for  7s.  6d.,  the  price  ought  to  go  in  three  shares — one  to  the 
trade,  one  to  the  expense  of  print  and  paper,  and  one  to  the 
author  and  publisher  between  them,  which  of  course  would  be 
Is.  3d.,  not  Is.  to  the  author.  But  in  stating  this  rule  I 
omitted  to  observe  that  books  for  young  persons  are  half 
bound  before  they  go  out  into  the  trade.  This  comes  to 
about  9d.  for  two  volumes.  The  allowance  to  the  trade  is 
also  heavy,  so  that  Is.  a  book  is  very  well  on  great  numbers. 
There  may  besides  be  a  third  volume. 

Dined  at  James  Ballantyne's,  and  heard  his  brother  Sandy 
sing  and  play  on  the  violin,  beautifully  as  usual.  James 
himself  sang  the  Eeel  of  Tullochgorum,  with  hearty  cheer  and 
uplifted  voice.  When  I  came  home  I  learned  that  we  had 
beat  the  Coal  Gas  Company,  which  is  a  sort  of  triumph. 

1  The  engraving  from  Raeburn's  peculiarity  in  Scott's  dictation,  that 
picture. — See  ante,  p.  212.  with  the  greatest  ease  he  was  able 

2  Mr.  Robert  Hogg  relates  that  to  carry  on  two  trains  of  thought 
during  these  few  days  Sir  W.  and  at  one  time,  "one  of  which  was  al- 
he  laboured  from  six  in  the  morning  ready  arranged,  and  in  the  act  of 
till  the  same  hour  in  the  evening,  being  spoken,  while  at  the  same  time 
with  the  exception  of  the  intervals  he  was  in  advance  considering  what 
allowed  for  breakfast  and  lunch,  was  afterwards  to  be  said. " — See  his 
which  were  served  in  the  room  to  interesting  letter  to  Mr.  Lockhart, 
save   time.     He   noted  a  striking  Life,  vol.  ix.  pp.  115-117. 


JUNE. 

June  1. — Settled  my  household-book.  Sophia  does  not 
set  out  till  the  middle  of  the  week,  which  is  unlucky,  our 
antiquarian  skirmish  beginning  in  Fife  just  about  the  time 
she  is  to  arrive.  Letter  from  John  touching  public  affairs ; 
don't  half  like  them,  and  am  afraid  we  shall  have  the  Whig 
alliance  turn  out  like  the  calling  in  of  the  Saxons.  I  told 
this  to  Jeffrey,  who  said  they  would  convert  us,  as  the 
Saxons  did  the  British.  I  shall  die  in  my  Paganism  for 
one.  I  don't  like  a  bone  of  them  as  a  party.  Ugly  reports 
of  the  King's  health ;  God  pity  this  poor  country  should 
that  be  so,  but  I  think  it  a  thing  devised  by  the  enemy. 
Anne  arrived  from  Abbotsford.  I  dined  at  Sir  Eobert 
Dundas's,  with  Mrs.  Dundas,  Arniston,  and  other  friends. 
Worked  a  little,  not  much. 

June  2. — Do.  Do.  Dined  at  Baron  Hume's.  These 
dinners  are  cruelly  in  the  way,  but  que  faut-il  faire  ?  the 
business  of  the  Court  must  be  done,  and  it  is  impossible 
absolutely  to  break  off  all  habits  of  visiting.  Besides,  the 
correcting  of  proof-sheets  in  itself  is  now  become  burden- 
some. Three  or  four  a  day  is  hard  work. 

June  3. — Wrought  hard.  I  think  I  have  but  a  trifle 
more  to  do,  but  new  things  cast  up  ;  we  get  beyond  the  life, 
however,  for  I  have  killed  him  to-day.  The  newspapers  are 
very  saucy ;  The  Sun  says  I  have  got  £4000  for  suffering  a 
Frenchman  to  look  over  my  manuscript.  Here  is  a  proper 
fellow  for  you !  I  wonder  what  he  thinks  Frenchmen  are 
made  of — walking  money-bags,  doubtless.  Now  as  Sir 
Fretful  Plagiary1  says,  another  man  would  be  mad  at  this, 
but  I  care  not  one  brass  farthing. 

1  Sheridan's  Critic,  Act  I.  Sc.  1. 

399 


400  JOUENAL.  [JUNE 

June  4. — The  birthday  of  our  good  old  king.  It  was 
wrong  not  to  keep  up  the  thing  as  it  was  of  yore  with 
dinners,  and  claret,  and  squibs,  and  crackers,  and  saturnalia. 
The  thoughts  of  the  subjects  require  sometimes  to  be  turned 
to  the  sovereign,  were  it  but  only  that  they  may  remember 
there  is  such  a  person. 

The  Bannatyne  edition  of  Melville's  Memoirs  is  out,  and 
beats  all  print.  Gad,  it  is  a  fine  institution  that ;  a  rare  one, 
by  Jove !  beats  the  Eoxburghe.  Wrought  very  bobbishly 
to-day,  but  went  off  at  dinner-time  to  Thomas  Thomson, 
where  we  had  good  cheer  and  good  fun.  By  the  way,  we 
have  lost  our  Coal  Gas  Bill  Sorry  for  it,  but  I  can't  cry. 

June  5. — Proofs.  Parliament  House  till  two.  Com- 
menced the  character  of  Bonaparte.  To-morrow  being  a 
Teind-day  I  will  hope  to  get  it  finished.  Meantime  I  go 
out  to-night  to  see  Frankenstein  at  the  theatre. 

June  6. — Frankenstein  is  entertaining  for  once — con- 
siderable art  in  the  man  that  plays  the  Monster,  to  whom  he 
gave  great  effect.  Cooper  is  his  name ;  played  excellently 
in  the  farce  too,  as  a  sailor — a  more  natural  one,  I  think, 
than  my  old  friend  Jack  Bannister,  though  he  has  not  quite 
Jack's  richness  of  humour.  I  had  seven  proof-sheets  to 
correct  this  morning,  by  Goles.  So  I  did  not  get  to  com- 
position till  nine  ;  work  on  with  little  interruption  (save  that 
Mr.  Verplanck,  an  American,  breakfasted  with  us)  until  seven, 
and  then  walked,  for  fear  of  the  black  dog  or  devil  that 
worries  me  when  I  work  too  hard. 

June  7. — This  morning  finished  Boney.  And  now,  as 
Dame  Fortune  says,  in  Quevedo's  Visions,  Go,  wheel,  and  the 
devil  drive  thee.1  It  was  high  time  I  brought  up  some 

1  "  No  sooner  had  the  Sun  uttered  confusion.     Fortune  gave  a  mighty 

these  words  than  Fortune,  as  if  she  squeak,  saying,   '  Fly,  wheel,  and 

had  been  playing  on  a  cymbal,  began  the  devil  drive  thee.'  " — Fortune  in 

to  unwind  her  wheel,  which,  whirl-  her  Wits,  Quevedo.     English  trans, 

ing  about  like  a  hurricane,  huddled  (1798),  vol.  iii.  p.  107. 
all  the  world  into  an  unparalleled 


1827.]  JOURNAL.  401 

reinforcements,  for  my  pound  was  come  to  half-crowns,  and 
I  had  nothing  to  keep  house  when  the  Lockharts  come. 
Credit  enough  to  be  sure,  but  I  have  been  taught  by  ex- 
perience to  make  short  reckonings.  Some  great  authors 
now  will  think  it  a  degradation  to  write  a  child's  book ; 
I  cannot  say  I  feel  it  such.  It  is  to  be  inscribed  to  my 
grandson,  and  I  will  write  it  not  only  without  a  sense  of 
its  being  infra  dig.  but  with  a  grandfather's  pleasure. 

I  arranged  with  Mr.  Cadell  for  the  property  of  Tales  of 
a  Grandfather,  10,000  copies  for  £787,  10s. 

June  8. — A  Mr.  Maywood,  much  protected  by  poor 
Alister  Dhu,  brought  me  a  letter  from  the  late  Colonel 
Huxley.  His  connection  and  approach  to  me  is  through  the 
grave,  but  I  will  not  be  the  less  disposed  to  assist  him  if  an 
opportunity  offers.  I  made  a  long  round  to-day,  going  to 
David  Laing's  about  forwarding  the  books  of  the  Bannatyne 
Club  to  Sir  George  Rose  and  Duke  of  Buckingham.  Then 
I  came  round  by  the  printing-office,  where  the  presses  are 
groaning  upon  Napoleon,  and  so  home  through  the  gardens. 
I  have  done  little  to-day  save  writing  a  letter  or  two,  for 
I  was  fatigued  and  sleepy  when  I  got  home,  and  nodded, 
I  think,  over  Sir  James  Melville's  Memoirs.  I  will  do 
something,  though,  when  I  have  dined.  By  the  way,  I 
corrected  the  proofs  for  Gillies;  they  read  better  than  I 
looked  for. 

June  9. — Corrected  proofs  in  the  morning.  When  I 
came  home  from  Court  I  found  that  John  Lockhart  and 
Sophia  were  arrived  by  the  steam-boat  at  Portobello,  where 
they  have  a  small  lodging.  I  went  down  with  a  bottle 
of  Champagne,  and  a  flask  of  Maraschino,  and  made 
buirdly  cheer  with  them  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  Had 
the  great  pleasure  to  find  them  all  in  high  health. 
Poor  Johnny  is  decidedly  improved  in  his  general  health, 
and  the  injury  on  the  spine  is  got  no  worse.  Walter  is 
a  very  fine  child. 

2c 


402  JOURNAL.  [JUNE 

June  10. — Rose  with  the  odd  consciousness  of  being  free 
of  my  daily  task.  I  have  heard  that  the  fish- women  go  to 
church  of  a  Sunday  with  their  creels  new  washed,  and  a  few 
stones  in  them  for  ballast,  just  because  they  cannot  walk 
steadily  without  their  usual  load.  I  feel  somewhat  like  this, 
and  rather  inclined  to  pick  up  some  light  task,  than  to  be 
altogether  idle.  I  have  my  proof-sheets,  to  be  sure ;  but 
what  are  these  to  a  whole  day  ?  Fortunately  my  thoughts 
are  agreeable  j  cash  difficulties,  etc.,  all  provided  for,  as  far 
as  I  can  see,  so  that  we  go  on  hooly  and  fairly.  Betwixt 
and  August  1st  I  should  receive  £750,  and  I  cannot  think  I 
have  more  than  the  half  of  it  to  pay  away.  Cash,  to 
be  sure,  seems  to  burn  in  my  pocket.  "  He  wasna  gien  to 
great  misguiding,  but  coin  his  pouches  wouldna  bide  in." l 
By  goles,  this  shall  be  corrected,  though !  Lockhart  gives  a 
sad  account  of  Gillies's  imprudences.  Lockhart  dined  with 
us.  Day  idle. 

June  1 1. — The  attendance  on  the  Committee,  and  after- 
wards the  general  meeting  of  the  Oil  Gas  Company  took  up 
my  morning,  and  the  rest  dribbled  away  in  correcting  proofs 
and  trifling;  reading,  among  the  rest,  an  odd  volume  of 
Vivian  Gh'ey ; z  clever,  but  not  so  much  so  as  to  make  me,  in 
this  sultry  weather,  go  up-stairs  to  the  drawing-room  to  seek 
the  other  volumes.  Ah !  villain,  but  you  smoked  when  you 
read. — Well,  Madam,  perhaps  I  think  the  better  of  the  book 
for  that  reason.  Made  a  blunder, — went  to  Ravelston  on  the 
wrong  day.  This  Anne's  fault,  but  I  did  not  reproach  her, 
knowing  it  might  as  well  have  been  my  own. 

June  12. — At  Court,  a  long  hearing.  Got  home  only 
about  three.  Corrected  proofs,  etc.  Dined  with  Baron 
Clerk,  and  met  several  old  friends ;  Will  Clerk  in  particular. 

June  13. — Another  long  seat  at  Court.  Almost  over- 
come by  the  heat  in  walking  home,  and  rendered  useless  for 

1  Burns:   "On  a  Scotch  Bard,      raeli,  was  published  anonymously 
gone  to  the  West  Indies."  in  5  vols.  12mo,  1826-7. 

2  Vivian  Grey,  by  Benjamin  Dis- 


1827.]  JOURNAL.  403 

the  day.  Let  me  be  thankful,  however;  my  lameness  is 
much  better,  and  the  nerves  of  my  unfortunate  ankle  are  so 
much  strengthened  that  I  walk  with  comparatively  little 
pain.  Dined  at  John  Swinton's;  a  large  party.  These 
festive  occasions  consume  much  valuable  time,  besides  trying 
the  stomach  a  little  by  late  hours,  and  some  wine  shed, 
though  that 's  not  much. 

June  14. — Anne  and  Sophia  dined.  Could  not  stay  at 
home  with  them  alone.  We  had  the  Skenes  and  Allan,  and 
amused  ourselves  till  ten  o'clock. 

June  15. — This  being  the  day  long  since  appointed  for 
our  cruise  to  Fife,  Thomas  Thomson,  Sir  A.  Ferguson,  Will 
Clerk,  and  I,  set  off  with  Miss  Adam,  and  made  our  journey 
successfully  to  Charlton,  where  met  Lord  Chief-Baron  and 
Lord  Chief-Commissioner,  all  in  the  humour  to  be  happy, 
though  time  is  telling  with  us  all.  Our  good-natured  host, 
Mr.  A.  Thomson,  his  wife,  and  his  good-looking  daughters, 
received  us  most  kindly,  and  the  conversation  took  its  old 
roll,  in  spite  of  woes  and  infirmities.  Charlton  is  a  good 
house,  in  the  midst  of  highly-cultivated  land,  and  im- 
mediately surrounded  with  gardens  and  parterres,  together 
with  plantations,  partly  in  the  old,  partly  in  the  new,  taste ; 
I  like  it  very  much  ;  though,  as  a  residence,  it  is  perhaps  a 
little  too  much  finished.  Not  even  a  bit  of  bog  to  amuse 
one,  as  Mr.  Elphinstone  said. 

June  16. — This  day  we  went  off  in  a  body  to  St. 
Andrews,  which  Thomas  Thomson  had  never  seen.  On  the 
road  beyond  Charlton  saw  a  small  cottage  said  to  have  been 
the  heritable  appanage  of  a  family  called  the  Keays  [  ?  ].  He 
had  a  right  to  feed  his  horse  for  a  certain  time  on  the 
adjoining  pasture.  This  functionary  was  sent  to  Falkland 
with  the  fish  for  the  royal  table.  The  ruins  at  St.  Andrews 
have  been  lately  cleared  out.  They  had  been  chiefly 
magnificent  from  their  size — not  their  extent  of  ornament.  I 
did  not  go  up  to  St.  Rule's  Tower  •  as  on  former  occasions ; 


404  JOUENAL.  [JUNE 

this  is  a  falling  off,  for  when  before  did  I  remain  sitting 
below  when  there  was  a  steeple  to  be  ascended  ?  But  the 
rheumatism  has  begun  to  change  that  vein  for  some  time 
past,  though  I  think  this  is  the  first  decided  sign  of 
acquiescence  in  my  lot.  I  sat  down  on  a  grave-stone,  and 
recollected  the  first  visit  I  made  to  St.  Andrews,  now  thirty- 
four  years  ago.  "What  changes  in  my  feeling  and  my 
fortune  have  since  then  taken  place !  some  for  the  better, 
many  for  the  worse.  I  remembered  the  name  I  then  carved 
in  Eunic  characters  on  the  turf  beside  the  castle-gate,  and  I 
asked  why  it  should  still  agitate  my  heart.  But  my  friends 
came  down  from  the  tower,  and  the  foolish  idea  was  chased 
away.1 

June  1 7. — Lounged  about  while  the  good  family  went  to 
church.  The  day  is  rather  cold  and  disposed  to  rain.  The 
papers  say  that  the  Corn  Bill  is  given  up  in  consequence  of 
the  Duke  of  Wellington  having  carried  the  amendment  in 
the  House  of  Lords.  All  the  party  here — Sir  A.  F.  perhaps 
excepted — are  Ministerialists  on  the  present  double  bottom. 
They  say  the  names  of  Whig  and  Tory  are  now  to  exist  no 
longer.  Why  have  they  existed  at  all  ? 

In  the  forenoon  we  went  off  to  explore  the  environs ;  we 
visited  two  ancient  manor-houses,  those  of  Elie  and 
Balcaskie.  Large  roomy  mansions,  with  good  apartments, 
two  or  three  good  portraits,  and  a  collection  of  most  extra- 
ordinary frights,  prodigiously  like  the  mistresses  of  King 

1  If  the  reader  turns  to  Decein-  lady  was  "  Williamina  Belches, 
ber  18,  1825,  he  will  see  that  this  is  sole  child  and  heir  of  a  gentleman 
not  the  first  allusion  in  the  Journal  who  was  a  cadet  of  the  ancient 
to  his  "  first  love," — an  innocent  family  of  Invermay,  and  who  after- 
attachment,  to  which  we  owe  the  wards  became  Sir  John  Stuart  of 
tenderest  pages,  not  only  of  Red-  Fettercairn. "  She  married  Sir  Wil- 
gauntlet  (1824),  but  of  the  Lay  of  liam  Forbes  in  1797  and  died  in 
the  Last  Minstrel  (1805),  and  of  1810.—  Life,  vol.  i.  p.  333  ;  Shairp's 
Rokeby  (1813).  In  all  these  works  Memoirs  of  Principal  Forbes,  pp .4, 5, 
the  heroine  has  certain  distinc-  8vo,  London,  1873,  where  her 
tive  features  drawn  from  one  and  portrait,  engraved  from  a  miniature, 
the  same  haunting  dream.  The  is  given. 


1827.]  JOUENAL.  405 

George  I.,  who  "  came  for  all  the  goods  and  chattels  "  of  old 
England.  There  are  at  Elie  House  two  most  ferocious- 
looking  Ogresses  of  this  cast.  There  are  noble  trees  about 
the  house.  Balcaskie  put  me  in  mind  of  poor  Philip 
Anstruther,  dead  and  gone  many  a  long  year  since.  He 
was  a  fine,  gallant,  light-hearted  young  sailor.  I  remember 
the  story  of  his  drawing  on  his  father  for  some  cash,  which 
produced  an  angry  letter  from  old  Sir  Eobert,  to  which 
Philip  replied,  that  if  he  did  not  know  how  to  write  like  a 
gentleman,  he  did  not  desire  any  more  of  his  correspondence. 
Balcaskie  is  much  dilapidated ;  but  they  are  restoring  the 
house  in  the  good  old  style,  with  its  terraces  and  yew-hedges. 
The  beastly  fashion  of  bringing  a  bare  ill-kept  park  up  to 
your  very  doors  seems  going  down.  We  next  visited  with 
great  pleasure  the  Church  of  St.  Monans,  which  is  under 
repair,  designed  to  correspond  strictly  with  the  ancient  plan, 
which  is  the  solid,  gloomy,  but  impressive  Gothic  It  was 
built  by  David  u.,  in  the  fulfilment  of  a  vow  made  to  St 
Monan  on  the  field  of  battle  at  Neville's  Cross.  One  would 
have  judged  the  king  to  be  thankful  for  small  mercies,  for 
certainly  St.  Monan  proved  but  an  ineffective  patron. 

Mr.  Hugh  Cleghorn1  dined  at  Charlton,  and  I  saw  him 
for  the  first  time,  having  heard  of  him  all  my  life.  He  is 
an  able  man,  has  seen  much,  and  speaks  well.  Age  has 
clawed  him  in  his  clutch,  and  he  has  become  deaf.  There 
is  also  Captain  Black  of  the  navy,  second  lieutenant  of 
the  Mars  at  Trafalgar.  Villeneuve  was  brought  on  board 
that  ship  after  the  debate.  He  had  no  expectation  that  the 
British  fleet  would  have  fought  till  they  had  formed  a 
regular  line.  Captain  Black  disowns  the  idea  of  the 
French  and  Spaniards  being  drawn  up  chequer  form  for 

1  Hugh  Cleghoru  had  been  Pro-  Government  in  various  foreign  mis- 

fessor    of    Civil    History    in     St.  sions.      A  glimpse  of  his  work  is 

Andrews  for  ten  years,  afterwards  obtainable  in  Southey's  Life  of  Dr. 

becoming  tutor  to  the  Earl  of  Home,  Andrew  Bell.     Mr.   Cleghorn  died 

and  subsequently  employed  by  our  in  1833,  aged  S3. 


406  JOURNAL.  [JUNE 

resisting  the  British  attack,  and  imputes  the  appearance  of 
that  array  to  sheer  accident  of  weather. 

June  18. — We  visited  Wemyss  Castle  on  our  return  to 
Kinghorn.  On  the  left,  before  descending  to  the  coast,  are 
considerable  remains  of  a  castle,  called  popularly  the  old 
castle,  or  MacdufP s  Castle.  That  of  the  Thane  was  situated 
at  Kennochquay,  at  no  great  distance.  The  front  of  "Wemyss 
Castle,  to  the  land,  has  been  stripped  entirely  of  its  castel- 
lated appearance,  and  narrowly  escaped  a  new  front.  To 
the  sea  it  has  a  noble  situation,  overhanging  the  red  rocks ; 
but  even  there  the  structure  has  been  much  modernised  and 
tamed.  Interior  is  a  good  old  house,  with  large  oak  stair- 
cases, family  pictures,  etc.  We  were  received  by  Captain 
Wemyss — a  gallant  sea-captain,  who  could  talk  against  a 
north-wester, — by  his  wife  Lady  Emma,  and  her  sister  Lady 
Isabella — beautiful  women  of  the  house  of  Errol,  and  vin- 
dicating its  title  to  the  handsome  Hays.  We  reached  the 
Pettycur  about  half-past  one,  crossed  to  Edinburgh,  and  so 
ended  our  little  excursion.  Of  casualties  we  had  only  one : 
Triton,  the  house-dog  at  Charlton,  threw  down  Thomson  and 
he  had  his  wrist  sprained.  A  restive  horse  threatened  to 
demolish  our  landau,  but  we  got  off  for  the  fright.  Happily 
L.  C.  B.  was  not  in  our  carriage. 

Dined  at  William  M'Kenzie's  to  meet  the  Marquis  and 
Marchioness  of  Stafford,  who  are  on  their  road  to  Dunrobin. 
Found  them  both  very  well. 

June  19. — Lord  Stafford  desires  to  be  a  member  of  the 
Bannatyne  Club — also  Colin  M'Kenzie.  Sent  both  names 
up  accordingly. 

The  day  furnishes  a  beggarly  record  of  trumpery.  From 
eight  o'clock  till  nine  wrote  letters,  then  Parliament  House, 
where  I  had  to  wait  on  without  anything  to  do  till  near 
two,  when  rain  forced  me  into  the  Antiquarian  museum. 
Lounged  there  till  a  meeting  of  the  Oil  Gas  Committee  at 
three  o'clock.  There  remained  till  near  five.  Home  and 


1827.]  JOURNAL.  407 

smoked  a  cheroot  after  dinner.  Called  on  Thomson,  who  is 
still  disabled  by  his  sprain.  Pereat  inter  hcec.  We  must 
do  better  to-morrow. 

June  20. — Kept  my  word,  being  Teind  Wednesday.  Two 
young  Frenchmen,  friends  of  Gallois,  rather  interrupted  me. 
I  had  asked  them  to  breakfast,  but  they  stayed  till  twelve 
o'clock,  which  is  scarce  fair,  and  plagued  me  with  compli- 
ments. Their  names  are  Ee*musat  and  Guyzard.1  Pleasant, 
good-humoured  young  men.  Notwithstanding  this  interrup- 
tion I  finished  near  six  pages,  three  being  a  good  Session- 
day's  work.  Allans,  vogue  la  galere.  Dined  at  the  Solicitor's 
with  Lord  Hopetoun,  and  a  Parliament  House  party. 

June  21. — Finished  five  leaves — that  is,  betwixt  morning 
and  dinner-time.  The  Court  detained  me  till  two  o'clock 
About  nine  leaves  will  make  the  volume  quite  large  enough. 

By  the  way,  the  booksellers  have  taken  courage  to  print  up 
2000  more  of  the  first  edition  [of  Napoleon] ;  which,  after  the 
second  volume,  they  curtailed  from  8000  to  6000.  This  will 
be  £1000  more  in  my  way,  at  least,  and  that  is  a  good  help. 
We  dine  with  the  Skenes  to-day,  Lockhart  being  with  us.2 

1  Count    Paul    de  Re"musat  has  pleasure  to  learn  that  the  visit  of 

been    good    enough     to    give    me  those    young  men  impressed    him 

another  view  of  this  visit  which  favourably.   My  father's  companion 

will     be    read    with     interest : —  was  his  contemporary  and  friend, 

"118  Fauboxirg  St.   Honore",  Feb-  M.  Louis  de  Guizard,  who,  like  my 

ruary    10,    1890. — My  father,  was  a  contributor  at  that 

father  has  often  spoken  to  me  of  time  to  the  Liberal  press  of  the 
this  visit  to  Sir  Walter  Scott — for  Restoration,  the  Globe  and  La  Bevue 
it  was  indeed  my  father,  Charles  Franqaise,  and  who,  after  the  Re- 
de R6musat,  member  of  the  French  volution  of  1830,  entered,  as  did  my 
Academy,  and  successively  Minister  father  likewise,  upon  political  life, 
of  the  Interior  and  for  Foreign  M.  de  Guizard  was  first  prtfet,  then 
Affairs,  who  went  at  the  age  of  ddputd,  and  after  1848  became 
thirty  to  Abbotsford,  and  he  re-  Directeur-gene'ral  des  Beaux  Arts, 
tained  to  the  last  days  of  his  life  a  He  died  about  1877  or  1878,  after 
most  lively  remembrance  of  the  his  retirement  from  public  life." 
great  novelist  who  did  not  acknow-  2  "  Woodstock  placed  upwards  of 
ledge  the  authorship  of  his  novels,  £8000  in  the  hands  of  Sir  Walter's 
and  to  whom  it  was  thus  impossible  creditors.  The  Napokon  (first  and 
otherwise  than  indirectly  to  pay  second  editions)  produced  for  them 
any  compliment.  It  gives  me  great  a  sum  which  it  even  now  startles 


408 


JOURNAL. 


[JUNE 


June  22. — Wrought  in  the  morning  as  usual.  Received 
to  breakfast  Dr.  Bishop,  a  brother  of  Bishop  the  composer. 
He  tells  me  his  brother  was  very  ill  when  he  wrote  "  The 
Chough  and  Crow,"  and  other  music  for  Guy  Mannering. 
Singular !  but  I  do  think  illness,  if  not  too  painful,  unseals 
the  mental  eye,  and  renders  the  talents  more  acute,  in  the 
study  of  the  fine  arts  at  least.1 

I  find  the  difference  on  2000  additional  copies  will  be 
£3000  instead  of  £1000  in  favour  of  the  author.  My  good 
friend  Publicum  is  impatient.  Heaven  grant  his  expecta- 
tions be  not  disappointed !  Coragio,  andiamos !  Such 


me  to  mention — £18,000.  As  by 
the  time  the  historical  work  was 
published  nearly  half  of  the  First 
Series  of  Chronicles  of  the,  Canongate 
had  been  written,  it  is  obvious  that 
the  amount  to  which  Scott's 
literary  industry,  from  the  close  of 
1825  to  the  10th  of  June  1827,  had 
diminished  his  debt,  cannot  be 
stated  at  less  than  £28,000:  Had 
health  been  spared  him,  how  soon 
must  he  have  freed  himself  from  all 
his  encumbrances  ! " — J.  G.  L. 

1  See  Life,  vol.  vi.  p.  89.  In  Mr. 
Ballantyne's  Memorandum,  there 
is  a  fuller  account  of  the  mode  in 
which  The  Bride  of  Lammermoor, 
The  Legend  of  Montrose,  and  almost 
the  whole  of  Ivanhoe  were  produced, 
and  the  mental  phenomenon  which 
accompanied  the  preparation  of  the 
first-named  work : — 

"  Duringtheprogressof  composing 
The  Heart  of  Midlothian,  The  Bride 
of  Lammermoor,  and  Legend  of 
Montrose — a  period  of  many 
months — Mr.  Scott's  health  had  be- 
come extremely  indifferent,  and  was 
often  supposed  to  place  him  in 
great  danger.  But  it  would  hardly 
be  credited,  were  it  not  for  the 
notoriety  of  the  fact,  that  although 
one  of  the  symptoms  of  his  illness 


was  pain  of  the  most  acute  descrip- 
tion, yet  he  never  allowed  it  to 
interrupt  his  labours.  The  only 
difference  it  produced,  that  I  am 
aware  of,  was  its  causing  him  to 
employ  the  hand  of  an  amanuensis 
in  place  of  his  own.  Indeed,  during 
the  greater  part  of  the  day  at  this 
period  he  was  confined  to  his  bed. 
The  person  employed  for  this  pur- 
pose was  the  respectable  and  intel- 
ligent Mr.  Wm.  Laidlaw,  who 
acted  for  him  in  this  capacity  in  the 
country,  and  I  think  also  attended 
him  to  town.  I  have  often  been 
present  with  Mr.  Laidlaw  during  the 
short  intervals  of  his  labour,  and 
it  was  deeply  affecting  to  hear  the 
account  he  gave  of  his  patron's  severe 
sufferings,  and  the  indomitable  spirit 
which  enabled  him  to  overmaster 
them.  He  told  me  that  very  often 
the  dictation  of  Caleb  Balderston's 
and  the  old  cooper's  best  jokes  was 
mingled  with  groans  extorted  from 
him  .by.  pain  ;  but  that  when  he, 
Mr.  L.,  endeavoured  to  prevail 
upon  him  to  take  a  little  respite, 
the  only  answer  he  could  obtain 
from  Mr.  Scott  was  a  request  that 
he  would  see  that  the  doors  were 
carefully  shut,  so  that  the  expres- 
sions of  his  agony  might  not  reach 


1827.] 


JOURNAL. 


409 


another  year  of  labour  and  success  would  do  much  towards 
making  me  a  free  man  of  the  forest.  But  I  must  to  work 
since  we  have  to  dine  with  Lord  and  Lady  Gray.  By  the 
way,  I  forgot  an  engagement  to  my  old  friend,  Lord  Justice- 
Clerk.  This  is  shockingly  ill-bred.  But  the  invitation  was 
a  month  old,  and  that  is  some  defence. 

June  23. — I  corrected  proofs  and  played  the  grandfather 
in  the  morning.  After  Court  saw  Lady  Wedderburn,  who 
asked  my  advice  about  printing  some  verses  of  Mrs.  Hemans 
in  honour  of  the  late  Lord  James  Murray,  who  died  in 


his  family — '  As  to  stopping  work, 
Laidlaw,'  he  said,  'you  know  that 
is  wholly  out  of  the  question.' 
What  followed  upon  these  exertions, 
made  in  circumstances  so  very 
singular,  appears  to  me  to  exhibit 
one  of  the  most  singular  chapters  in 
the  history  of  the  human  intellect. 
The  book  having  been  published 
before  Mr.  Scott  was  able  to  rise 
from  his  bed,  he  assured  me  that, 
when  it  was  put  into  his  hands,  he 
did  not  recollect  one  single  incident, 
character,  or  conversation  it  con- 
tained. He  by  no  means  desired 
me  to  understand,  nor  did  I  under- 
stand, that  his  illness  had  erased 
from  his  memory  all  or  any  of  the 
original  family  facts  with  which  he 
had  been  acquainted  from  the  period 
probably  of  his  boyhood.  These  of 
course  remained  rooted  where  they 
had  ever  been,  or,  to  speak  more 
erplicitly,  where  explicitness  is  so 
entirely  important,  he  remembered 
the  existence  of  the  father  and 
mother,  the  son  and  daughter,  the 
rival  lovers,  the  compulsory  mar- 
riage, and  the  attack  made  by  his 
bride  upon  the  unhappy  bride- 
groom, with  the  general  cata- 
strophe of  the  whole.  All  these 
things  he  recollected,  just  as  he  did 
before  he  took  to  his  bed,  but  the 


marvel  is  that  he  recollected  liter- 
ally nothing  else — not  a  single 
character  woven  by  the  Romancer — 
not  one  of  the  many  scenes  and 
points  of  exquisite  humour,  nor 
anything  with  which  he  was  con- 
nected as  writer  of  the  work. 
'  For  a  long  time  I  felt  myself  very 
uneasy,'  he  said,  '  in  the  course  of 
my  reading,  always  kept  on  the  qui 
vive  lest  I  should  be  startled  by 
something  altogether  glaring  and 
fantastic ;  however,  I  recollected 
that  the  printing  had  been  per- 
formed by  James  Ballantyne,  who  I 
was  sure  would  not  have  permitted 
anything  of  this  sort  to  pass.' 
'Well,'  I  said,  'upon  the  whole, 
how  did  you  like  it?'  'Oh,'  he 
said,  '  I  felt  it  monstrous  gross 
and  grotesque,  to  be  sure,  but  still 
the  worst  of  it  made  me  laugh,  and 
I  trusted  therefore  the  good-natured 
public  would  not  be  less  indulgent' 
I  do  not  think  that  I  ever  ventured 
to  lead  to  this  singular  subject 
again.  But  you  may  depend  upon 
it,  that  what  I  have  said  is  as  dis- 
tinctly reported  as  if  it  had  been 
taken  down  at  the  moment  in  short- 
hand. I  should  not  otherwise  have 
imparted  the  phenomenon  at  all." 
— Mr.  Ballantyne's  MSS. 


410  JOURNAL.  [JUNE 

Greece.  Also  Lord  Gray,  who  wishes  me  to  write  some 
preliminary  matter  to  his  ancestor,  the  Master  of  Gray's 
correspondence.  I  promised.  But  ancestor  was  a  great 
rogue,  and  if  I  am  to  write  about  him  at  all,  I  must  take 
my  will  of  him.  Anne  and  I  dined  at  home.  She  went  to 
the  play,  and  I  had  some  mind  to  go  too.  But  Miss  Foote 
was  the  sole  attraction,  and  Miss  Foote  is  only  a  very 
pretty  woman,  and  if  she  played  Rosalind  better  than  I 
think  she  can,  it  is  a  bore  to  see  Touchstone  and  Jacques 
murdered.  I  have  a  particular  respect  for  As  You  Like  It. 
It  was  the  first  play  I  ever  saw,  and  that  was  at  Bath  in 
1776  or  1777.  That  is  not  yesterday,  yet  I  remember  the 
piece  very  well.  So  I  remained  at  home,  smoked  a  cigar, 
and  worked  leisurely  upon  the  review  of  the  Culloden 
Papers,  which,  by  dint  of  vamping  and  turning,  may  make 
up  the  lacking  copy  for  the  "  Works  "  better,  I  think,  than 
that  lumbering  Essay  on  Border  Antiquities. 

June,  24. — I  don't  care  who  knows  it,  I  was  lazy  this 
morning.  But  I  cheated  my  laziness  capitally,  as  you  shall 
hear.  My  good  friend,  Sir  Watt,  said  I  to  my  esteemed 
friend,  it  is  hard  you  should  be  obliged  to  work  when  you 
are  so  disinclined  to  it.  Were  I  you,  I  would  not  be  quite 
idle  though.  I  would  do  something  that  you  are  not 
obliged  to  do,  just  as  I  have  seen  a  cowardly  dog  willing  to 
fight  with  any  one  save  that  which  his  master  would  have 
desired  him  to  yoke  with.  So  I  went  over  the  review  of 
the  Culloden  Papers,  and  went  a  great  way  to  convert  it 
into  the  Essay  on  Clanship,  etc.,  which  I  intend  for  the 
Prose  Works.  I  wish  I  had  thought  of  it  before  correcting 
that  beastly  border  essay.  Naboclish ! 

June,  25. — Wrote  five  pages  of  the  Chronicles,  and  hope 
to  conquer  one  or  two  more  ere  night  to  fetch  up  the  lee- 
way. Went  and  saw  Allan's  sketch  of  a  picture  for 
Abbotsford,  which  is  promising;  a  thing  on  the  plan  of 
Watteau.  He  intends  to  introduce  some  interesting  char- 


1827.]  JOUKNAL.  411 

acters,  and  some,  I  suspect,  who  have  little  business  there. 
Yesterday  I  dined  with  the  Lockharts  at  Portobello.1 
To-day  at  home  with  Anne  and  Miss  Erskine.  They  are 
gone  to  walk.  I  have  a  mind  to  go  to  trifle,  so  I  do  not 
promise  to  write  more  to-night,  having  begun  the  dedication 
(advertisement  I  mean)  to  the  Chronicles.  I  have  pleasant 
subjects  of  reflection.  The  fund  in  Gibson's  hands  will 
approach  £40,000, 1  think. 

Lord  Melville  writes  desiring  to  be  a  candidate  for  the 
Bannatyne  Club. 

I  made  a  balance  of  my  affairs,  and  stuck  it  into  my 
book :  it  should  answer  very  well,  but  still 

"  I  am  not  given  to  great  misguiding, 
But  coin  my  pouches  will  na  bide  in, 
With  me  it  ne'er  was  under  hiding, 
I  dealt  it  free." 

I  must,  however,  and  will,  be  independent. 

June.  26. — Well,  if  ever  I  saw  such  another  thing  since 
my  mother  bound  up  my  head ! 2  Here  is  nine  of  clock 
strucken  and  I  am  still  fast  asleep  abed.  I  have  not  done 
the  like  of  this  many  a  day.  However,  it  cannot  be  helped. 
Went  to  Court,  which  detained  me  till  two  o'clock.  A  walk 
home  consumed  the  hour  to  three !  Wrote  in  the  Court, 
however,  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington  and  Lord  Bloomfield. 
and  that  is  a  good  job  over. 

I  have  a  letter  from  a  member  of  the  Commission  of  the 
Psalmody  of  the  Kirk,  zealous  and  pressing.  I  shall  answer 

1  Mr.  Lockhart  says  : — "  My  wife  and  strolled  about  afterwards  on 

and  I  spent  the  summer  of   1827  the  beach,  thus  interrupting,  bene- 

partly  at  a  sea-bathing  place  near  ficially  for  his  health,  and  I  doubt 

Edinburgh,  and  partly  in  Roxburgh-  not  for  the  result  of  his  labours  also, 

shire.    The  arrival  of  his  daughter  the  new  custom  of  regular  night- 

and  her  children  at  Portobello  was  a  work,  or,  as  he  called  it,  serving 

source  of  constant  refreshment  to  double  tides. " 

him  during  June,  for  every  other  2  See  Swift,  "Mary  the  cook  to 

day  he  came  down  and  dined  there,  Dr.  Sheridan." 


412  JOURNAL  [JUNE 

him,  I  think.1  One  from  Sir  James  Stuart,2  on  fire  with  Corfe 
Castle,  with  a  drawing  of  King  Edward,  occupying  one  page,  as 
he  hurries  down  the  steep,  mortally  wounded  by  the  assassin. 
Singular  power  of  speaking  at  once  to  the  eye  and  the  ear. 
Dined  at  home.  After  dinner  sorted  papers.  Rather  idle. 

June  27. — Corrected  proofs  and  wrote  till  breakfast. 
Then  the  Court.  Called  on  Skene  and  Charles  K.  Sharpe, 
and  did  not  get  home  until  three  o'clock,  and  then  so  wet  as 
to  require  a  total  change.  We  dine  at  Hector  Buchanan 
Macdonald's,  where  there  are  sometimes  many  people  and 
little  conversation.  Sent  a  little  chest  of  books  by  the 
carrier  to  Abbotsford. 

A  visit  from  a  smart  young  man,  Gustavus  Schwab  of 
Konigsberg ;  he  gives  a  flattering  picture  of  Prussia,  which 
is  preparing  for  freedom.  The  King  must  keep  his  word, 
though,  or  the  people  may  chance  to  tire  of  waiting. 
Dined  at  H.  B.  Macdonald's  with  rather  a  young  party  for 
Colin  M'Kenzie  and  me. 

June  28. — Wrote  a  little  and  corrected  proofs.  How 
many  things  have  I  unfinished  at  present  ? 

Chronicles,  first  volume  not  ended, 
do.,        second  volume  begun. 

Introduction  to  ditto. 

1  The  answer  is  printed  in  the  ideas    is    a    serious    loss    to    the 

Scott  Centenary  Catalogue  by  David  cause  of  devotion,  and  scarce  to  be 

Laing,   from  which  the   following  incurred  without  the   certainty  of 

extracts  are  given  : —  corresponding  advantages.     But  if 

"  The  expression  of  the  old  metri-  these  recollections  are  valuable  to 
cal  translation,  though  homely,  is  persons  of  education,  they  are  al- 
plain,  forcible,  and  intelligible,  and  most  indispensable  to  the  edification 
very  often  possesses  a  rude  sort  of  of  the  lower  ranks  whose  prejudices 
majesty,  which  perhaps  would  be  do  not  permit  them  to  consider  as 
ill-exchanged  for  mere  elegance."  the  words  of  the  inspired  poetry, 
"  They  are  the  very  words  and  the  versions  of  living  or  modern 
accents  of  our  early  Reformers —  poets,  but  persist,  however  absurdly, 
sung  by  them  in  woe  and  grati-  in  identifying  the  original  with  the 
tude,  in  the  fields,  in  the  churches,  ancient  translation. " — P.  158. 
and  on  the  scaffold."  "  The  part-  2  Sir  James  Stuart,  the  last  bar- 
ing with  this  very  association  of  onet  of  Allanbank. 


1827.]  JOUKNAL.  413 

Tales  of  My  Grandfather. 

Essay  on  Highlands.  This  unfinished,  owing  to  certain 
causes,  chiefly  want  of  papers  and  books  to  fill  up  blanks, 
which  I  will  get  at  Abbotsford.  Came  home  through  rain 
about  two,  and  commissioned  John  Stevenson  to  call  at  three 
about  binding  some  books.  Dined  with  Sophia ;  visited,  on 
invitation,  a  fine  old  little  Commodore  Trunnion,  who,  on 
reading  a  part  of  Napoleon's  history,  with  which  he  had 
himself  been  interested,  as  commanding  a  flotilla,  thought  he 
had  detected  a  mistake,  but  was  luckily  mistaken,  to  my 

great  delight. 

"  I  fear  thee,  ancient  mariner." 

To  be  cross-examined  by  those  who  have  seen  the  true 
thing  is  the  devil.  And  yet  these  eye-witnesses  are  not  all 
right  in  what  they  repeat  neither,  indeed  cannot  be  so, 
since  you  will  have  dozens  of  contradictions  in  their  state- 
ments. 

June  29. — A  distressing  letter  from  Hay  don ;  imprudent, 
probably,  but  who  is  not  ?  A  man  of  rare  genius.  What  a 
pity  I  gave  that  £10  to  Craig!  But  I  have  plenty  of  ten 
pounds  sure,  and  I  may  make  it  something.  I  will  get  £100 
at  furthest  when  I  come  back  from  the  country.  Wrote  at 
proofs,  but  no  copy ;  I  fear  I  shall  wax  fat  and  kick  against 
Madam  Duty,  but  I  augur  better  things. 

Just  as  we  were  sitting  down  to  dinner,  Cadell  burst 
in  in  high  spirits  with  the  sale  of  Napoleon*  the  orders  for 
which  pour  in,  and  the  public  report  is  favourable.  Detect- 
ed two  gross  blunders  though,  which  I  have  ordered  for 
cancel.  Supped  (for  a  wonder)  with  Colin  Mackenzie  and  a 
bachelor  party.  Mr.  Williams  2  was  there,  whose  extensive 
information,  learning,  and  lively  talent  makes  him  always 
pleasant  company.  Up  till  twelve — a  debauch  for  me 
nowadays. 

1  "The  Life  of  Bonaparte,  then,  2  Archdeacon  Williams,  Rector 
was  at  last  published  about  the  mid-  of  the  New  Edinburgh  Academy 
dle  of  June  1827."— Life,  ix.  117.  from  1824  to  1847. 


414 


JOURNAL. 


[JUNE  1827. 


June  30. — Redd  up  nay  things  for  moving,1  which  will 
clear  my  hands  a  little  on  the  next  final  flitting.  Corrected 
proof-sheets.  Williams  told  me  an  English  bull  last  night. 
A  fellow  of  a  college,  deeply  learned,  sitting  at  a  public 
entertainment  beside  a  foreigner,  tried  every  means  to  enter 
into  conversation,  but  the  stranger  could  speak  no  dead 
language,  the  Doctor  no  living  one  but  his  own.  At  last 
the  scholar,  in  great  extremity,  was  enlightened  by  a  happy 
"  Nonne  potes  logui  cum  digitis  ? " — said  as  if  the  difficulty 
was  solved  at  once. 

AKbotsford, — Reached  this  about  six  o'clock.2 


1  Among  the  letters  which  Sir 
Walter  found  time  to  write  before 
leaving  Edinburgh,  was  one  to  con- 
gratulate his  old  and  true  friend 
Mrs.  Coutts  on  her  marriage,  which 
took  place  on  the  16th  of  June. 
That  letter  has  not  been  preserved, 
but  it  drew  from  her  Grace  the 
following  reply  : — 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT, — 
Your  most  welcome  letter  has 
'  wandered  mony  a  weary  mile 
after  me. '  Thanks,  many  thanks  for 
all  your  kind  congratulations.  I  am 
a  Duchess  at  last,  that  is  certain, 
but  whether  I  am  the  better  for  it 
remains  to  be  proved.  The  Duke 
is  very  amiable,  gentle,  and  well- 
disposed,  and  I  am  sure  he  has 
taken  pains  enough  to  accomplish 
what  he  says  has  been  the  first  wish 
of  his  heart  for  the  last  three  years. 
All  this  is  very  flattering  to  an 
old  lady,  and  we  lived  so  long  in 
friendship  with  each  other  that  I 
was  afraid  I  should  be  unhappy  if  I 
did  not  say  I  will — yet  (whisper  it, 
dear  Sir  Walter)  the  name  of  Coutts 
— and  a  right  good  one  it  is — is, 
and  ever  will  be,  dear  to  my  heart. 
What  a  strange,  eventful  life  has 
mine  been,  from  a  poor  little  player 
child,  with  just  food  and  clothes  to 
cover  me,  dependent  on  a  very  pre- 


carious profession,  without  talent  or 
a  friend  in  the  world  !  'to  have  seen 
what  I  have  seen,  seeing  what  I 
see. '  Is  it  not  wonderful  ?  is  it  true  ? 
can  I  believe  it  ? — first  the  wife  of 
the  best,  the  most  perfect,  being 
that  ever  breathed,  his  love  and 
unbounded  confidence  in  me,  his 
immense  fortune  so  honourably 
acquired  by  his  own  industry,  all 
at  my  command,  .  .  .  and  now  the 
wife  of  a  Duke.  You  must  write 
my  life;  the  History  of  Tom  Thumb, 
Jack  the  Giant  Killer,  and  Goody 
Two  Shoes,  will  sink  compared  with 
my  true  history  written  by  the 
Author  of  Waverley ;  and  that  you 
may  do  it  well  I  have  sent  you  an 
inkstand.  Pray  give  it  a  place  on 
your  table  in  kind  remembrance  of 
your  affectionate  friend, 

"HARRIETT  ST.  ALBANS. 

"STRATTON  STREET, 
July  16th,  1827." 

2  Next  morning  the  following 
pleasant  little  billet  was  despatched 
to  Kaeside  : — 

"My  dear  Mr.  Laidlaw,  I  would 
be  happy  if  you  would  come  at  kail- 
time  to-day.  Napoleon  (6000  copies) 
is  sold  for  £11,000.— Yours  truly, 

"Sunday.  W.  S." 

— Al>botsford  Notanda,  by  R.  Car- 
ruthers,  Edin.  1871. 


MAP  OF    ABBOTSFORD    FROM 


ORDNANCE  SURVEY     !858. 


« 


APPENDIX. 

SCOTT'S  LETTERS  TO  ERSKINE. — P.  61. 

SIR  WALTER  was  in  the  habit  of  consulting  him  in  those 
matters  more  than  any  of  his  other  friends,  having  great 
reliance  upon  his  critical  skill.  The  manuscripts  of  all  his 
poems,  and  also  of  the  earlier  of  his  prose  works,  were  submitted 
to  Kinnedder's  judgment,  and  a  considerable  correspondence  on 
these  subjects  had  taken  place  betwixt  them,  which  would,  no 
doubt,  have  constituted  one  of  the  most  interesting  series  of 
letters  Sir  Walter  had  left. 

Lord  Kinnedder  was  a  man  of  retired  habits,  but  little  known 
except  to  those  with  whom  he  lived  on  terms  of  intimacy,  and 
by  whom  he  was  much  esteemed,  and  being  naturally  of  a  re- 
markably sensitive  mind,  he  was  altogether  overthrown  by  the 
circumstance  of  a  report  having  got  abroad  of  some  alleged 
indiscretions  on  his  part  in  which  a  lady  was  also  implicated. 
Whether  the  report  had  any  foundation  in  truth  or  not,  I  am 
altogether  ignorant,  but  such  an  allegation  affecting  a  person  in 
his  situation  in  life  as  a  judge,  and  doing  such  violence  to  the 
susceptibility  of  his  feelings,  had  the  effect  of  bringing  a  severe 
illness  which  in  a  few  days  terminated  his  life.  I  never  saw 
Sir  Walter  so  much  affected  by  any  event,  and  at  the  funeral, 
which  he  attended,  he  was  quite  unable  to  suppress  his  feelings, 
but  wept  like  a  child.  The  family,  suddenly  bereft  of  their  pro- 
tector, were  young,  orphans,  their  mother,  daughter  of  Professor 
John  Eobertson,  having  previously  died,  found  also  that  they  had 
to  struggle  against  embarrassed  circumstances ;  neither  had  they 
any  near  relative  in  Scotland  to  take  charge  of  their  affairs. 

But  a  lady,  a  friend  of  the  family,  Miss  M ,  was  active  in 

their  service,  and  it  so  happened,  in  the  course  of  arranging 
their  affairs,  the  packet  of  letters  from  Sir  Walter  Scott,  con- 
taining the  whole  of  his  correspondence  with  Lord  Kinnedder, 
came  into  her  hands.  She  very  soon  discovered  that  the 
correspondence  laid  open  the  secret  of  the  authorship  of  the 

415 


416  APPENDIX. 

Waverley  Novels,  at  that  period  the  subject  of  general  and 
intense  interest,  and  as  yet  unacknowledged  by  Sir  Walter. 

Considering  what  under  these  circumstances  it  was  her  duty 
to  do,  whether  to  replace  the  letters  and  suffer  any  accident  to 
bring  to  light  what  the  author  seemed  anxious  might  remain 
unknown,  or  to  seal  them  up,  and  keep  them  in  her  own  custody 
undivulged — or  finally  to  destroy  them  in  order  to  preserve  the 
secret, — with,  no  doubt,  the  best  and  most  upright  motives,  so 
far  as  her  own  judgment  enabled  her  to  decide  in  the  matter,  in 
which  she  was  unable  to  take  advice,  without  betraying  what  it 
was  her  object  to  respect,  she  came  to  the  resolution,  most  un- 
fortunately for  the  world,  of  destroying  the  letters.  And,  ac- 
cordingly, the  whole  of  them  were  committed  to  the  flames; 
depriving  the  descendants  of  Lord  Kinnedder  of  a  possession 
which  could  not  fail  to  be  much  valued  by  them,  and  which,  in 
connection  with  Lord  Kinnedder 's  letters  to  Sir  Walter,  which  are 
doubtless  preserved,  would  have  been  equally  valuable  to  the 
public,  as  containing  the  contemporary  opinions,  prospects,  views, 
and  sentiments  under  which  these  works  were  sent  forth  into  the 
world.  It  would  also  have  been  curious  to  learn  the  unbiased 
impression  which  the  different  works  created  on  the  mind  of 
such  a  man  as  Lord  Kinnedder,  before  the  collision  of  public 
opinion  had  suffused  its  influence  over  the  opinions  of  people  in 
general  in  this  matter. — Skene's  Reminiscences. 


END  OF  VOL.  I. 


Printed  by  T.  and  A.  CONSTABLE,  Printers  to  Her  Majesty, 
at  the  Edinburgh  University  Press. 


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